C                                                                        G      C
I was born in the shadow of a cotton mill smokestack, down in an Alabama bottom land.
C                                                                                    G           C
Where my Grandpappy broke his back, pullin’ on a cotton sack, to raise my Pa to be a cotton mill man.
        Am                      Em                  Am                                  Em
I got a lot of memories of government commodities, -------- when all our meat came in a can.
Am                             Em                            F#                                B           E
While the boss man on the hill cut a steak and ate his fill, called upon to clean his grill, a cotton mill man


[Chorus]

F                  G              F           G           C
Lord, don’t let my son grow up to be a sweaty cotton mill man.


[Verse 2]

C                                                                                       G       C
I grew up in the gloom of a cotton mill weave room, with weaver’s glue and calluses all over my hands
C
I didn’t have a honeymoon, couldn’t leave my cotton loom
                                G           C
I swore my son would never be a cotton mill man
  Am                    Em                            Am                             Em
E|wat| ched my woman cry, when our baby daughter died, -----  I couldn’t make her understand
Am                             Em
Why the doctor never came, the lack of money was the blame,
   F#                            B           E
I cursed the day that I became a cotton mill man.

[Repeat Chorus]

F                  G              F           G           C
Lord, don’t let my son grow up to be a sweaty cotton mill man.


[Verse 3]

C
The company taught us all the rules, on how to work their spinning spools
                                G         C
So the boss’s son could drive a big black sedan
C
The company owned the houses and the company owned the grammar schools
                            G           C
It’s hard to be an educated cotton mill man
Am                                      Em                         Am                      Em
They figure you don’t need to learn, anything but how to earn, the money that you pay upon demand
Am                               Em
To the general store they own or else they take away your home
    F#                             B           E
And give it to some other homeless cotton mill man


[Repeat Chorus]

F                  G              F           G           C
Lord, don’t let my son grow up to be a sweaty cotton mill man.


[Repeat Chorus]

F                  G              F           G           C
Lord, don’t let my son grow up to be a sweaty cotton mill man.