The southeast Georgia red clay dust is groundin' to my blue jeans   A heavy hundred pound cotton sack draggin' along behind   Wanting to leave this place so bad, I forget how I got here   Workin' my way back home, one row at a time      It's a long old cotton road between here and Waco   Then, three days a-thumbin' through that California line   And two more days of pickin' to that house, just south of Fresno   Workin' my way back home, one row at a time      Mississippi delta mud is caked in layers on my brogans   Sunshine on snow white cotton, nearly makes me blind   I can almost see 'em now, a home folk runnin' out to meet me   Workin' my way back home, one row at a time      It's a long, old cotton road between here and Waco   Then, three days a-thumbin' through that California line, Lord, Lord   Two more days of pickin' to that house, just south of Fresno   Workin' my way back home, one row at a time   Workin' my way back home, one row at a time