The Cotton Patch

I was raised in the middle of the cotton belt, babe, but I ain't gonna stay
I'll lose my shape fast dragging cotton sacks and eating butter beans every day

Yeah, I'm a sweet young thing, I just turned eighteen and I'm unhooking the latch
'Cause I've got too much class for this cotton patch

I've been reading magazines on our once-a-week trip to town on Saturday
And I've seen all the pretty clothes and handsome rich men and I know that's for me

Papa's been trying to pair me up with Willie Bond whose daddy owns the cotton gin, hah
I done checked Willie out two years ago and Willie knows I'm too much for him

It's Monday morning, four o'clock
Got my sack packed and I'm out here where the freeway runs
Here comes a truck, I'm in luck
He's going straight through on a Dallas run

Yeah, I'm heading for big D and I know that's the place for me to really make a catch
Well, finally I'm a-getting my class out of this cotton patch

I arrived in style 'board that big semi and I felt mighty high
Waltzing into the best department store for employment to suit my style
And I was doing pretty good 'til some wisecracker came on the scene
He called me a ripe tomato, but he said I sure look green

I tried every door to every store in town, but my luck had run down
It seemed nobody 'round Dallas could recognize the class I'd brought to town
And after all day of looking, would you believe the only job I could land?
Was in a dog food factory sticking labels on dog food cans

Dear Mama, how are you, Pop, and the kids? Hope you're doing okay
Me, I never did find a better job and all the rich men got away

Mama, I've been thinking pretty soon you know I'll be nineteen
And I sure learned a lot about class fast, Mama, know what I mean?

Mama, if you'd ask Papa if he'd spare a few dollars
I'd catch the next Greyhound coming home
And tell him if Willie Bond ain't committed yet
I'd be willing to give him another try
After all, it's been over two years
Just tell Papa