Mississippi Mud

Everybody in my senior class Got the hell out just as fast as they could go And pretty soon that Greyhound bus It only left a few of us to carry on It might've been the family farm Or Sherry Johnson's loving arms Something wouldn't let me leave Something made me believe in A little house, a piece of land Making things grow with my own two hands Coming home weary to the bone at the end of the day Country stores, beat up Fords And songs with only two or three chords Somehow I think I fell in love with this Mississippi mud This friend went to Birmingham And he's a State's Farm Insurance man And makes a hundred thou He calls me every now and then Keeps saying he can cut me in But it's too late now Cause I've seen so much Delta rain It must've seept into my veins Been here long enough to see One thing for a man like me is A little house, a piece of land Making things grow with my own two hands Coming home weary to the bone at the end of the day Country stores, beat up Fords And songs with only two or three chords Somehow I think I fell in love with this Mississippi mud Hang around here long enough It'll get into your blood Comes up like a cotton seed Before to long all you need is A little house, a piece of land Making things grow with my own two hands Coming home weary to the bone at the end of the day Country stores, beat up Fords And songs with only two or three chords Somehow I think I fell in love with this Mississippi mud With this Mississippi mud Oh, I think I fell in love with this Mississippi mud With this Mississippi mud