Not too far from the Battelle yard
On a reverse curve on down
Not two miles from the town depot
Sullivan's shack was found
Back on the higher ground

You could see him every day
Walking on down the line
Old brown sack across his back
Long hair down behind
Speaking his worried mind

It’s a long way from the Delta to the North Georgia Hills
And a tote sack full of ginseng don't pay no traveling bill
I'm too old to ride the rails or thumb the road alone
So I guess I’ll never make it back to home
My muddy water Mississippi Delta home

Now the winters here, they get too cold
The damp, it makes me ill
Can't dig no roots on a mountainside
With the ground froze hard and still
Gotta stay at the foot of the hill

But next summer, when things turn right
The companies will pay high
I'll make enough money to pay my bills
And bid this mountain goodbye
Then he said with a sigh
It's a long way from the Delta to the North Georgia Hills
And a tote sack full of ginseng don't pay no traveling bills
I'm too old to ride the rails or thumb the road alone
So I guess I'll never make it back to home
My muddy water Mississippi Delta home