John Moses was a black man
Lived half a mile from my grandaddy's farm
He worked his twenty acres
With a broke-down mule and muslces in his arms
For a can of RC Cola
He'd stop and share the widsom of his soul
And I'd sit there on that white fence
And listen to the stories that he told
He'd seen the Great Depression
He said life is full of fertile ground
But it takes a little rain to make things grow
And when it comes to harvest time
We're all bound to reap just what we sow
So the best that I can tell you boy
Is always do the best that you can do
Move the rocks and plow your fields
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I leaned against that rusty fence
And let the past blow through me like the wind
And as the sun was sinkin low
I could've sworn I heard his voice again
CHORUS