Preachers preach for gold and not for souls
It's what keeps a poor man always in a hole
We can hardly get our breath
Taxed and schooled and preached to death
Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?

We got bodies swinging in the southern breeze
Blood on the roots, blood on the leaves
It's a bittersweet crop for the wind to suck
Strange fruit swinging in the southern breeze

Bodies floating on canal the levees gone to hell
Martha get me my sixteen gauge and some dry shells
Them who got, got out of town
Thеm who ain't got, left to drown
Tell me how can a poor man stand such timеs and live?

I got family scattered all over the world
And I ain't got no hope in this world no more
Gonna be a judgement that's a fact
A righteous train rolling down this track
Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?
Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?
Tell me how can a poor man stand such times and live?