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      My best friend went to Birmingham   And he's a State 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 too 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