Preachers preach for gold and not for souls
It’s what keeps a poor man always in a hole
We can hardly get our breath
Taxed and schooled and preached to death
Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?
We got bodies swinging in the southern breeze
Blood on the roots, blood on the leaves
It’s a bittersweet crop for the wind to suck
Strange fruit swinging in the southern breeze
Bodies floating on c~n~l the levees gone to h~ll
Martha get me my sixteen gauge and some dry sh~lls
Them who got, got out of town
Thеm who ain’t got, left to drown
Tell me how can a poor man stand such timеs and live?
I got family scattered all over the world
And i ain’t got no hope in this world no more
Gonna be a judgement that’s a fact
A righteous train rolling down this track
Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?
Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?
Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?
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