Текст песни Cotton Pickin' Hands

Johnny Cash and June Carter: I'm a fair to middling man And these are cotton pickin' hands I'm a fair to middling man And these are cotton pickin' hands Johnny: My woman asks for little And nothing she demands Except to hold these cotton pickin' hands The bloom is white and then it's red Then it falls to leave a bowl instead The leaves fall and the field is white We pick the pods from dawn to night Johnny and June: I'm a fair to middling man And these are cotton pickin' hands I'm a fair to middling man And these are cotton pickin' hands Johnny: My woman asks for little And nothing she demands Except to hold these cotton pickin' hands My woman cooks and sweeps the yard And that old rug board is rough and hard Her face is pretty though it's tanned And I love those cotton pickin' hands Johnny and June: I'm a fair to middling man And these are cotton pickin' hands I'm a fair to middling man And these are cotton pickin' hands Johnny: My woman asks for little And nothing she demands Except to hold these cotton pickin' hands Johnny and June: I'm a fair to middling man And these are cotton pickin' hands I'm a fair to middling man And these are cotton pickin' hands