Where Grass Won't Grow

Well the dirt was clay in the color of the blood in me

A twelve-acre farm on a ridge in South Tennessee

We left our sweat all over this ground

Behind the mill we watched grow old, row after row

Trying to raise corn and cotton in

Grounds so poor that grass won't grow

There was one old store in the holler we all called town

It belonged to a gentle old man named Henry Brown

He gave us credit in the wintertime to carry

Us through the cold when the wind would blow

Trying to raise corn and cotton in

Grounds so poor that grass won't grow

Well the one I love used to walk these fields with me

A hard-working man and true as one could be

But then one year death was going around and quickly took its toll

My Jimmy had to go

Now he lies there a-sleeping under

Grounds so poor that grass won't grow

As I stand here looking over this part of Tennessee

The fields are barren as far as the eye can see

But over the grave where my Jimmy lies

There's a beautiful sight to behold that nobody knows

Why there's flowers growing in grounds so poor that grass won't grow

Pretty flowers growing in grounds so poor that grass won't grow