2. Cotton crate table been waitin’ to fall;
Tin can tobacco, 2 cents a chaw;
Spider web spun ‘cross the gun standin’ by the door.
Barns under summer sky;
Turnin’ to night;
Cloud-covered hillside suddenly bright;
Couldn’t make farming work, wages too small
Down in Arkansas.

3. Rain in the springtime, nothing to do;
Beans in the frying pan, every-day stew.
Sheriff’s 10 men start searching again towards dawn.
Traps on a hook-nail rusted real tight;
No longer waitin’, nothin’ ever in sight.
Couldn’t go nowhere, up against the wall
Down in Arkansas.

4. Biscuits won’t chew, molasses won’t pour;
Kerosene cans piled up on the floor;
Nothin’s been done, no need for the sun any more.
Too many years since the last crop was lost;
Scarecrows’ ain’t hangin,’ now only sticks crossed.
Charcoal where cattle’d been eatin’ before
Down in Arkansas.