the cotton children
The cotton children
live in the fields and pick cotton
Their bleek hands weaving in and out of the cotton
their pockets are empty
and their heads are bare
I aint got no hope
aint got no sorrrow
if you kick me out there be no tomorrow
see if you can
the cotton children are lonely
they come from the planet mars
and live on peanuts
they are as small as a needles eye
and as big as a jumper
they can pave their way behide the sheeves
just to see us big fragarant flowers
see you
I dont understand why the cotton children like chocolate
because they live in the sky so hazel