Intro: Aunt Mattie bent a thousand times, down the long black rows Then battled with the angry weeds, so little seeds could grow Come summer, Mattie pulled the snow from cruel and cutting bolls She was patient pale and slender and was only eight years old Round 'n round the spinning wheel, beneath Aunt Mattie's boot She recalled the soil and cotton seeds and summer's hopeful shoots Two winters spun out summer's threads, in rich and creamy folds And she had a bolt of cotton cloth when she turned ten years old Chorus: