Chill E Mammoth - Atkinson's Mill

As the sun erupted
Dried the dew up in the field
And bakes the ground that holds our daily bread

I can taste the smell of freedom
Though work has only started
The horses barely carted for their stead

Being poor is a virtue my mother always said
There's some things that they just can't take away
As we ride out to the field
Still sore and nearly dead
We'll rise again to work another day
Rise again to work another day

Twelve hours a day, seven days a week
I chop wood to fire up the still
And sell our shine so people get their fill
Plow the field and in the garden till
Peach pie coolin' on the window sill
On Sunday, there's a little time to kill
That's just a day at Atkinson's Mill

Peach pie coolin' on the window sill
On Sunday, there's a little time to kill
If you need help you know your neighbors will
That's just a day at Atkinson's Mill

Written by:
Cody Haars

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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