Song parody of
Legacy
by Pierce Pettis
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It is a legacy
It was handed down to me
Poor dirt farmer
Skinny mule
Parched the red clay
Like it was the Red Sea
It is a legacy
Both me and You
You are a black man
I am a white man
Both come from southland
Both doing the best we can
Well the grim reaper
Is my brother's keeper
The way my brother was kept
Small wonder Jesus wept
Is it a legacy
Passed down to you and me
What we're taught to believe
We never question these things
It is a legacy
It's a wild and bitter seed
Blown across those fertile fields
Where the roots run deep
Both got calloused hands
Blue collared working men
Down here in Bubba land
What's in a name
Both living rent to rent
Some owe the government
We are quite different
We are the same
It is a legacy
Passed down to you and me
What we learn to believe
We never question these things
It is a legacy
A wild and bitter seed
Blown across those fertile fields
Where the roots run deep
Sundays we congregate
Praise Jesus, pass the plate
Sitting in our Sunday best
Singing hymns and wiping sweat
We learn the golden rule
In separate Sunday schools
Our house long divided against itself
It is a legacy
Passed down to you and me
What we choose to believe
We dare not question these things
It is a legacy
It is a wild and bitter seed
Scattered on those fertile fields
Where the roots run deep
It is a legacy
It was handed down to me
Poor dirt farmer
Skinny mule
Parched the red clay
Like it was the Red Sea
It is a legacy
Both me and You
You are a black man
I am a white man
Both come from southland
Both doing the best we can
Well the grim reaper
Is my brother's keeper
The way my brother was kept
Small wonder Jesus wept
Is it a legacy
Passed down to you and me
What we're taught to believe
We never question these things
It is a legacy
It's a wild and bitter seed
Blown across those fertile fields
Where the roots run deep
Both got calloused hands
Blue collared working men
Down here in Bubba land
What's in a name
Both living rent to rent
Some owe the government
We are quite different
We are the same
It is a legacy
Passed down to you and me
What we learn to believe
We never question these things
It is a legacy
A wild and bitter seed
Blown across those fertile fields
Where the roots run deep
Sundays we congregate
Praise Jesus, pass the plate
Sitting in our Sunday best
Singing hymns and wiping sweat
We learn the golden rule
In separate Sunday schools
Our house long divided against itself
It is a legacy
Passed down to you and me
What we choose to believe
We dare not question these things
It is a legacy
It is a wild and bitter seed
Scattered on those fertile fields
Where the roots run deep
