Cotton and Flax


I reckon my ancestors worked like a Hebrew slave
under that hot Georgia sun with no relief of shade
Picking cotton all day every day all year
in that blistering heat with their masters sitting near

I suppose my Hebrew kin felt exactly the same way
toiling in that hot Egyptian field every single day
Picking that flax to be woven ever so fine
into white linen garments bright as the sunshine

Well now, wouldn't y'know
only cotton can be made into linen also
Us poor black souls making such rich white clothes
One sunlit day all them oppressors are sure to faint
when they see their slaves dressed in the attire of saints

Yep, that fine white linen
is what the angels wear
It is righteous clothing
worn by the just and fair

Yep, that cotton and flax
wrought by our hard labor
We're going to rest and relax
in those white clothes of favor

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