I don't have to work in the fields no more,
or listen to the garbage they say.
There's no need to pick the springtime crops,
my Master's gone away.

There won't be no more whuppings,
There won't be no more pain.
And maybe not too long from now,
I'll feel human again.

There won't be any screaming,
There won't be any blood.
I won't ever again be stuck out here,
picking cotton in the mud.

I won't live in a pig sty,
I won't be caked in dirt,
And maybe someday I'll get to wear
a freshly ironed shirt.

There won't be metal shackles,
There won't be bruising chains.
Now I'm not condemned to live
beneath the tyrants reign.

I could go find a woman,
a lovely darling wife.
I can do now like the free man does.
I've been handed back my life.

I won't be his dog no more,
his rodent in the ditch.
If that's what money do to a heart,
then don't let me be rich.

I suppose you could call me lucky,
I thought I'd never make it.
Now the blessins come my way,
and by god, I'm gonna take it!

I'm leaving these old fields behind,
I'm done with work today.
There's a new road out there for me now,
My Master's gone away.