Mαcαcα Lγrιcs

Johnny Cash
"The Frozen Four-Hundred Pound Fair-To-Middling Cotton Picker" lyrics

The Frozen Four-Hundred Pound Fair-To-Middling Cotton Picker

I left the field one evening
My fingers so cold and sore
From fair-to-middling cotton
Three-hundred pounds or more

Jim McCann was still picking
Straddle in his row
The sun began to sinking
And the wind began to blow

He was bound to get four-hundred
A dragging a twelve foot sack
I hollered out, "Jim, come weight it"
But I only saw his back

So I went on home to supper
And I gathered around my kin
I was thinking of Jim out there picking
With winter setting in

Next morning the air was freezing
The snow was nine feet deep
I jerked on my long red handles
And I left my kids asleep

I got myself a shovel
And went to where I seen Jim go
And commenced to a digging for him
At the other end of his row

I found his body frozen
And I took him in to thaw
I dragged in his sack and I weighed it
And I added Jim's marks that I saw

The total was over four-hundred
So he'd picked more than he'd bet
Of fair-to-middling cotton
But Jim ain't thawed out yet

Authors: Johnny Cash