Big Spring
Well thank you for your letter, it came as some surprise
Since that moon-lit night we ran from you and swallowed our goodbyes
Now you want us to come back, to work the farm and land
But you don’t own us now no sir, you don’t seem to understand
That we want be coming back, won’t be going back to Big Spring
And they were singing , Lord reach on down and take us Lord reach on down and take us.
You paid us less than the cows, you paid us less than the sheep.
You made us work good and hard, didn’t waste our time on sleep
You called it home, we called it hell, with walls of fear and pain
Such a god fearing man, you’ll have a lot to explain.
You killed that union soldier, hid those rebels in the barn
Let your sons rape Matilda, could you keep my girls from harm?
And you’ll never see my face again, though you owe forty years back pay.
And thank old George for grabbing your gun, when you shot at me that day.
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