Cabin In the Cotton
FRANK S PERKINS, MITCHELL PARISH
There's a cabin in the southland,
Where I long to go.
Little cabin in the cotton,
Where the cotton grows.
There's a cabin in the cotton,
Far away but not forgotten,
And in every recollection,
That's where my affection strays.
I got a feeling so sentimental,
And I see a smile so gentle,
When I think of old Virginnie
And my pickaninny days.
We took the good and we took the evil.
Laughter and song, and the old boll weevil.
Time has gone by, now here am I,
Wishing that I only knew...
How to wake up in the morning,
In the cabin I was born in.
Little cabin in the cotton,
I have not forgotten you.
