RUEBEN JAMES

Rueben James, in my song you'll live again,
And the phrases that I rhyme are just footsteps out of time.
Rueben James, all the folks around Madison County cussed your name.
You're just a no-count sharecropping colored man,
Who would steal anything he can,
And everybody laid the blame on Rueben James.

Rueben James, you still walk the furrowed fields of my mind,
The faded shirt, the weathered brow, the callused hands upon the plow,
I love you then and I love you now, Rueben James.

Flora Gray, the gossip of Madison County, died with child,
And although your skin was black, 
You were the one that didn't turn your back on a hungry white child
With no name, Rueben James.

Rueben James with your mind on my soul and the bottle in your right 
hand,
You said turn the other cheek, a better world is waiting for the meek.
In my mind these words remain from Rueben James.

Rueben James, you still walk the furrowed fields of my mind,
The faded shirt, the weathered brow, the callused hands upon the plow,
I love you then and I love you now, Rueben James.

Rueben James, one dark cloudy day,
They brought you from the field,
Until your lonely pine box came just a picture, me and rain,
Just to sing one last refrain for Rueben James.

Rueben James, you still walk the furrowed fields of my mind,
The faded shirt, the weathered brow, the callused hands upon the plow,
I love you then and I love you now, Rueben James.

Rueben James, you still walk the furrowed fields of my mind,
The faded shirt, the weathered brow, the callused hands upon the plow,
I love you then and I love you now, Rueben James.