Текст песни Mud - Whiskey Myers

Oh Lord, won't you let me stay in the place where I was born?
In the fields Granddaddy tilled and all my seeds are sown
Ain't no love for a poor dirt farmer, a genuine son of the south
And the water's high and the bills are too and levy tumblin' down

Daddy owed the banker man
So we was drownin' before the flood
That river washed us all away
Left us right here in the mud
Yeah, in the mud

We built this house upon the Mississippi back in 1879
Over a hundred years, my family's been here barely scrapin' by
We just some good old country folk
Tryin' to weather the storm
How we gonna pay when the interest rates
Done got higher than the corn?

Ain't no man gonna take it away
Six feet down in the blood
Still the crops they don't come alive
And you'll die, right here in the mud
Yeah, in the mud

Who's this creepin' through the sticks?
Let me talk at 'em with my 30 ought six
A couple city guys with suits and ties
Bet they can't feel this crosshair right between their eyes

I got no place to go and no place to run
Just a dirt farmer's boy with his Granddaddy's gun
Step across that line, I'm gonna tell you, son
We all gonna die, right here in the mud
Yeah, in the mud