When it rains five days and the skies turn dark as night,
Then trouble’s takin place in the lowlands at night.
I woke up this mornin’, can’t even get out of my door.
That’s enough trouble to make a poor girl wonder where she want to go.
Then they rowed a little boat about five miles ‘cross the farm.
I packed all my clothes, throwed them in and they rowed me along.
When it tunders and lightnin’, and the wind begins to blow,
There’s thousands of people ain’t got no place tot go.
Then I went and stood upon some high old lonesome hill.
Then looked down on the house where I used to live.
Back-water blues done caused me to pack my things and go.
’Cause my house fell down and I can’t live there no more.
I can’t move no more,
There ain’t no place for a poor old girl to go.