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The Caboose lyrics : "Black Hands White Cotton"

Two, three, four

We're gonna do a tune right now

About a story this old field worker
Told out in South Alabama


He said, me and my woman
Been working real hard
Through this Alabama?


It's all for the man
In the big white house

Who living over yonder
By the church


On a Sunday morning
You can hear us singing
On a Sunday morning

Our voices ringing

Everybody sing

Glory, glory, hallelujah
Lord, can't you hear me
Talking to you


You know, the only time
I ever heard that man pray

Well, he stood right up to the Lord
And I could hear him say


He said, Lord, my crops are dry
Whoa, I'm afraid they're gonna die
Lord, you gotta please

Gimme some water

But all I got in this whole world

Is my black hands and white cotton
Mobile lights, they're forgotten


Glory, glory, hallelujah
Lord, can't you hear me
Talking to you


A new day, it's dawning
The black night, it turns morning

Black hands, they're demanding
Some respect and understanding


A white man, black brother
They're hand in hand one another
Singing glory, glory, hallelujah

Lord, can't you hear me
Talking to you


Black hands and white cotton
Mobile lights, they're forgotten
Glory, glory, hallelujah

Lord, can't you hear me
Talking to you


Glory, glory
Glory, glory, glory now
Glory, can't you hear me talking


Glory, glory, hallelujah
Glory, glory, hallelujah

Oh, Lord, got to hear me talking
Oh, Lord, can't you hear me talking


Glory, glory...

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