Share Croppers
By Robert W. Cluney
Oh Lord, oh Lord, I’m a hungry man
I forgot the taste of meat
I ain’t got a dollar in my jeans
How can a poor man eat
How can a poor man eat
My daddy was a hard workin’ man
Broke his back ’a hoeing corn
He made a dollar an’ a half a day
An’ he worked the whole day long
He worked the whole day long
My mamma was pickin’ cotton
My daddy’s cuttin’ cane
I was taggin’ along behind
With the hot sun cooking my brains
With the hot sun cooking my brains
I got myself a good woman
I love her and she loves me
We settled down on a share cropper’s land
To raise a family
To raise a family
Here comes Mister Matric
He owns the land that I live on
He’s goin’ to want his share of my crop
Before the settin’ sun
Before the settin’ sun
You say I owe you a hundred dollars
But Mister Matric I can’t pay
I can’t even feed my wife and kids
On a dollar and a half a day
On a dollar and a half a day
Yes sir I see the contract
And I know just what it means
It means I gonna’ spend the rest of my days
Livin’ on taters and beans
Livin’ on taters and beans
You pay me ten cents for my cotton
You want forty cents for your meat
Now I ask oh my dear Lord
How the hell can a poor man eat
How the hell can a port man eat
You think that you got troubles
But there’s a lot than you don’t know
Just take a look at a share cropper’s lot
An’ you’ll know that’s no way to go
An’ you’ll know that’s no way to go
The share cropper’s said to the devil
What have you got in store for me
The devil said, share cropper,
You’re as near hell as you can be
You’re as near hell as you can be