The Caboose - Black Hands White Cotton lyrics

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<b>Black Hands White Cotton</b> by <i>The Caboose</i><br />

Two, three, four

We're gonna do a tune right now

About a story this old field worker

Told out in South Alabama

He said, me and my woman

Been working real hard

Through this Alabama?

It's all for the man

In the big white house

Who living over yonder

By the church

On a Sunday morning

You can hear us singing

On a Sunday morning

Our voices ringing

Everybody sing

Glory, glory, hallelujah

Lord, can't you hear me

Talking to you

You know, the only time

I ever heard that man pray

Well, he stood right up to the Lord

And I could hear him say

He said, Lord, my crops are dry

Whoa, I'm afraid they're gonna die

Lord, you gotta please

Gimme some water

But all I got in this whole world

Is my black hands and white cotton

Mobile lights, they're forgotten

Glory, glory, hallelujah

Lord, can't you hear me

Talking to you

A new day, it's dawning

The black night, it turns morning

Black hands, they're demanding

Some respect and understanding

A white man, black brother

They're hand in hand one another

Singing glory, glory, hallelujah

Lord, can't you hear me

Talking to you

Black hands and white cotton

Mobile lights, they're forgotten

Glory, glory, hallelujah

Lord, can't you hear me

Talking to you

Glory, glory

Glory, glory, glory now

Glory, can't you hear me talking

Glory, glory, hallelujah

Glory, glory, hallelujah

Oh, Lord, got to hear me talking

Oh, Lord, can't you hear me talking

Glory, glory...