Chickasaw County Child Songtext
von Bobbie Gentry
Chickasaw County Child Songtext
Just outside of Delta country
Where the bitter weeds growin′ wild
Born seven miles outside o' Woodland
Was a Chicasaw County child
An′ Poppa done brung us some peppermint candy
Momma fixed a custard pie
Bought her a store-bought doll from Jackson
She's the apple of everyone's eye
Chickasaw County child
Is gonna be okay
Chickasaw County child
You gonna be somebody someday
Sportin′ her checkered feedsack dress
A ruby ring from a Cracker Jack box
Shufflin′ on down that gravel road
Barefooted and chunkin' rocks
Momma said "Look-a here, Dumplin′
You'll go far ′cause you got style"
Ain't nothin′ in this world gonna hold her back
Her pretty Chickasaw County child
Chickasaw County child
Is gonna be okay
Chickasaw County child
You gonna be somebody someday
Leavin' the county a week from Monday
Ain't got much to pack
A tin can of black strap sorghum molasses
And Momma′s almanac
Momma done made her a brand new dress
Made of blue polka dotted silk
Two postcards from California
An′ a gallon of buttermilk
Chickasaw County child
Is gonna be okay
Chickasaw County child
You gonna be somebody someday
You gonna be somebody someday
(Chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka)
You gonna be somebody someday
(Chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka)
(Chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka)
(Chickasaw, Chickasaw, Jackson, Lord, Chickasaw)
(Chickasaw, Chickasaw, Jackson, Lord, Chickasaw)
(Chickasaw, Chickasaw, Jackson, Lord, Chickasaw)
(Chickasaw, Chickasaw, Jackson, Lord, Chickasaw)
(Chickasaw, Chickasaw, Jackson, Lord, Chickasaw)
Where the bitter weeds growin′ wild
Born seven miles outside o' Woodland
Was a Chicasaw County child
An′ Poppa done brung us some peppermint candy
Momma fixed a custard pie
Bought her a store-bought doll from Jackson
She's the apple of everyone's eye
Chickasaw County child
Is gonna be okay
Chickasaw County child
You gonna be somebody someday
Sportin′ her checkered feedsack dress
A ruby ring from a Cracker Jack box
Shufflin′ on down that gravel road
Barefooted and chunkin' rocks
Momma said "Look-a here, Dumplin′
You'll go far ′cause you got style"
Ain't nothin′ in this world gonna hold her back
Her pretty Chickasaw County child
Chickasaw County child
Is gonna be okay
Chickasaw County child
You gonna be somebody someday
Leavin' the county a week from Monday
Ain't got much to pack
A tin can of black strap sorghum molasses
And Momma′s almanac
Momma done made her a brand new dress
Made of blue polka dotted silk
Two postcards from California
An′ a gallon of buttermilk
Chickasaw County child
Is gonna be okay
Chickasaw County child
You gonna be somebody someday
You gonna be somebody someday
(Chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka)
You gonna be somebody someday
(Chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka)
(Chicka, chicka, chicka, chicka)
(Chickasaw, Chickasaw, Jackson, Lord, Chickasaw)
(Chickasaw, Chickasaw, Jackson, Lord, Chickasaw)
(Chickasaw, Chickasaw, Jackson, Lord, Chickasaw)
(Chickasaw, Chickasaw, Jackson, Lord, Chickasaw)
(Chickasaw, Chickasaw, Jackson, Lord, Chickasaw)
Writer(s): Bobbie Gentry Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com