| Pick a lotta cotton, drag a long sack |
| Coming across the field, well, I see Boss Jack |
| He’s a riding straddle of a single-foot roan |
| When you know that horse, you’ll leave him alone |
| That ole roan’s got green in his eyes |
| Mean as the devil and twice as wise |
| A fire in his nose and a bow in his back |
| Can’t nobody ride him but Boss Jack |
| «Come on children, bend your back |
| Work a little faster, fill your sack |
| Then you hitch up the wagon, take it to the gin |
| Finish picking before the winter sets in» |
| Now here a while back when the crop was laid by |
| Remember who took us on a big fish fry? |
| Caught a heap of catfish, goggle-eye, and carp |
| Dashed and sang to the guitar and the harp |
| Well, someday old Boss Jack is going to set us all free |
| Gabriel’s gonna blow for you and me |
| Angels going to bring that chariot from above |
| Flapping their wings like a turtle dove |
| «Come on children, bend your back |
| Work a little faster, fill your sack |
| Then you hitch up the wagon, take it to the gin |
| Finish picking before the winter sets in» |