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Georgia Stockade Blues

This song is by Tom Delaney and appears on the compilation Broke, Black & Blue (1999).

Days are dreary, night scream alarms
Down in Georgia on a stockade farm
Doing time for a crime
They found me guilty without one dime
Guards all around with their guns
Shoot me down like a rabbit if I start to run
Five long years been out there sufferin'
Working from sun to sun
Evenin' falls, mornin' comes
My daily task is never done

Tippin' boxes, Lord
Pour all the turpentine balm
At night can't raise my arm
Both legs shackled to a ball and chain
Pleading for mercy, but it's alway in vain
Ankles all swollen, can't wear no shoes
I've got the meanest kind
Of Georgia Stockade Blues

Both legs shackled to a ball and chain
Pleading for mercy but it's all in vain
Ankles all swollen, can't wear no shoes
I've got the meanest kind of Georgia Stockade Blues

Credits

Recorded:

1925

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