Waylon Jennings
Waylon Jennings
Waylon Jennings
Waylon Jennings
Waylon Jennings
Waylon Jennings
Waylon Jennings
Waylon Jennings
Waylon Jennings
Waylon Jennings
[Verse 1]
Down in the place where I call home
I've been working my fingers to the bone
Picking white gold, picking white gold
All day long in Louisiana sun
Picking and a pulling white cotton by the tons
Picking white gold, picking white gold
I fill my sack and I put it on my shoulder
And then I take one again
Old man cotton won't let me make a nickel
Till I get it to a cotton gin
So I bent my back till I think it's gonna break
Try to keep a thinking how much I'm going to make
[Chorus]
Picking white gold, picking white gold
[Verse 2]
There's a little girl, I call Bellie all day
She works alongside of me
Picking white gold, picking white gold
Her lips are soft as a cotton in a hand
And side by side we're making our plans
Picking white gold, picking white gold
There's a little house with a little solid ground
That would make a mighty pretty home
All we need is little money down
And we could call it our home
[Chorus]