King Cotton Lyrics - Singles - Band Of The Grenadiers

KING COTTON 

Pick the cotton and pick the cotton and pick the cotton some more! 

Youre pickin cotton until you drop 

Youre never getting away 

Youd rather be in a coffee shop 

With fish and chips on your tray. 

Youre bendin down 

Your back is broke 

Your fingers ache and 

Your feet are smokin 

Your head is numb 

Your legs are gone 

And youve got nothing to say 

Youre pickin cotton the whole day through 

Until the evening is done 

Youll never get a vacation or a getaway for some fun 

You grind your knees into the dirt 

You rip your pants and you tear your shirt 

But you cant complain, your backs in pain 

And you get nothin for pay 

Cause that sonavabitch will never let you 

Take a break at all, 

Youll never get any food 

Or water, juice or alcohol 

So pick your cotton, boy. This rotten 

Day has just begun, and you will 

Not be done with pickin till its 

Later in the Fall 

Im tellin you what my life is like 

So listen up my friend 

My mother is holding up all right 

Although her back dont bend 

We pick all day, we pick all night 

And when the day is over we can 

Grab a little nap and then we do it all again. 

TRIO 

Youll never guess how much I really love this job, 

So, Im giving you fair warning 

I love the foreman who can make my mother sob 

While cotton pickin in the morning. 

You see that bastard with the whip? His name is Bob. 

Woke me up at five this morning, 

Youll never know how much Id love to stab that slob 

And spread his guts to rot til dawning 

DOGFIGHT 

Youve got to 

Bend down, open a boll 

Pick out the fluff, bag it! 

If your bags getting full 

Harder to pull, drag it! 

Fill the bag my friend 

Fill it once again 

Do it till your fingers bleed, boy! 

TRIO (REPRISE) 

Youll never know how much I love plantation life, 

Full of sweet perfume and romance; 

Youll never know how much Id like to use Bobs knife 

To separate him from his gonads.