Mississippi Mud

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
 This friend went to Birmingham
 And he's a State's 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 seapt into my vains
 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 to 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
 Oooh, I think I fell in love with this Mississippi mud
 With this Mississippi mud