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Correct Black Hands White Cotton Lyrics
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Artists: T
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The Caboose
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Correct Black Hands White Cotton
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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...
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