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, genuine son of the South

And the water's high and the bills are, too, and levy tumbling down



Daddy owed the banker man

We were drowning before the flood

And the river washed us all away

Left us right here in the mud

Yeah in the mud



We built this house in Baldwin, Mississippi back in 1879

And for a hundred years my family's been here barely scraping by

We just some good old country folk

Just trying to weather the storm

Papa's gonna pay when the interest rates 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 says you can't come from the sticks

Let me talk at 'em with my thirty aught six

A couple city guys with suits and ties

Bet they can't kill this frogman right between the eyes

I got no place to go and no place to run

Just a dirt farmer 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