Reuben James, in my
song you'll live again.
And the phrases that
I rhyme, are just a
footstep out of time.
From the time
when I knew you,
Reuben James.
Reuben James, all
the folks around Madison
County cussed your name.
You're a just a no-account,
sharecroppin' colored
man. Who'd steal
anything he can.
And everybody laid
the blame on
Reuben James.
Reuben James, you
still walk the furrowed
fields of my mind.
Faded shirt, weathered
brow, caloused hands
upon the plow.
I loved you then and
I love you now,
Reuben James.
Flora Grey, the gossip
of Madison County
died with child.
And although your
skin was black, and you
were the one that
didn't turn your back,
on the hungry
white child with no
name, Reuben James.
Reuben James, a with
your mind on my soul
And a bottle in
your right hand.
You said, turn the
other cheek. For there's
a better world awaiting
for the meek.
In my mind, these
words remain from
Reuben James.
Reuben James, you
still walk the furrowed
fields of my mind.
Faded shirt, weathered
brow, the caloused hands
upon the plow.
I loved you then and
I love you now,
Reuben James.
Reuben James, a one
dark cloudy day
They brought you
from the field.
Until your lonely pine
box came, a just a
preacher and
me in the rain.
Just to sing one last
refrain for Reuben James.
Reuben James, you
still walk the furrowed
fields of my mind.
Faded shirt, weathered
brow, caloused hands
upon the plow.
I loved you then and
I love you now,
Reuben James.
Reuben James, you
still walk the furrowed
fields of my mind.
Faded shirt.........