Lyrics:
Eight years old with a flour sack cape
Tied all around his neck
He climbed up on the garage
He's figurin' what the heck
Well, he screwed up his
Eight years old with flour sack cape
Tied all around his neck
He climbed up on the garage
Figurin' what the heck
He screwed his courage up so
We'll raise an Indian family
And I'll be busy night and day
Looking like a flour sack
With two papooses on my back
And three papooses on the way
Like
there in your flour sack
Hand me down my rolling pin
Give me that old po' boy grin
I'll pat out some biscuit dough
Tu e moi la fais do do
Tu e moi la
and day
looking like a flour sack
with two papooses on my back
and three papooses on the way
I'm an Inidan
too...
Some Indian's summer's day
withou a care
I'm going downtown
Gonna get me a sack of flour
Cook it every hour
Keep my skillet good and greasy all the time
Skillet good and greasy all the time
A man appeared before Wells Fargo
Wells Fargo's stage driver man
Wearing long white linen
And a dust flour sack over his head
Pointed a double
shame
Henry nearly killed me,
'Fore they hauled his ass in jail
Slapped me right across my face
With a flour sack full o' nails
Nearly broke my
an Indian family
And I'll be busy night and day
Looking like a flour sack
With two papooses on my back
And three papooses on the way
Like the Chippewa,
it's almost hard to choose.
You know the ones already about the plucky, silly girls
That make the best out of life,
Look fetching in a flour-sack dress
an Indian family
And I'll be busy night and day
Looking like a flour sack
With two papooses on my back
And three papooses on the way
Like the Chippewa,
Lilly Pearl standin' by the wood stove
Cookin' up a pot of fatback and beans
Aprons made outta Martha White flour sack
Them was the days when
Rich girl got married in a white wedding dress, poor girl does the same, my girl got married in an old flour sack. You know she's all hitched up just
to life
Sacks of flour and rice or poker chips
Greasy palms and systems underhanding
And maybe we'll take a walk on Pluto
But be no closer
Now me an my baby we talked late last night
An we talked for another hour
She wanted me to go down to the welfare sto'
And get a sack a-that
And we can bring you back to life
Sacks of flour and rice or poker chips
Greasy palms or systems underhanding
(...shelter...)
And maybe we'll take
Feel the heat and the burn on your back
The rip and the moan and the stretch of the rack
All my belongings in a flour sack
Will the place I come from
Now me an my baby we talked late last night
An we talked for another hour
She wanted me to go down to the welfare sto'
And get a sack a-that
And get a sack a-that welfare flour
But I told her, 'No'
'Baby an I sho' don't wanna go'
I said, 'I'll do anything in the world for you
I don't
night and day
Looking like a flour sack
With two papooses on my back
And three papooses on the way
Like the Chippewa, Iroquois, Omaha
Like those Indians
flour sacks
She married at fifteen
He was a good man, sometimes
'Til he came 'round a drinking
Slinging his moonshine, hundred and fifth time
With
Slapped me right across my face - With a flour sack full o' nails
Nearly broke my head in two - With his steel-toed boots
Shovin' all that money - Down
teams of three
Gutting curing packing fish
Outside on the quay
With fingers wrapped in cotton rags
Made from old flour sacks
To save her hands from
an atomizer, or a new meat tenderizer
Or a dress that is not sewn from flour sacks (laughter)
With the Neighbour Order Plan
You can stock up on good brands
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