The cotton boll, the cotton boll..

Oh cotton boll, oh cotton boll, The farmer waits as your shell unfolds. "What lovely aroma the cotton beholds. Smell the sweetness of the cotton boll. And the rainbow of colors don't you see? That's the prettiest sight in the world to me. Listen quietly at the beautiful sound, As the Louisiana snow falls onto the ground. Feel how soft the cotton feels on your arm, Look at it, touch it, oh how warm. The farmer says as he tips his hat, 'My dear lady what do you think about that?'" The city girl looks up with her puzzled face, "That's not what I see here in this place. I smell nothing... and what do you hear? I hear no snow falling with these two ears. What rainbow of colors do you see? It looks like a dirty white color to me. Please don't touch my skin with that nasty thing. Please get it away from my diamond rings." "Young lady, young lady, you have so much to learn. For this crop you see, my heart does yearn. I'll tell you just what I smell in this air. The smell of green money, to that I'll swear. And the smell of the food, oh how sweet, If not for the cotton we could not eat. This cotton boll to the farmer is life, Like diamonds and gold it is to MY wife. The color of green, the color of blue, the color of the sun it should be to you too. It feels like the soft shirt you wear on your back, Whose color, not white, but rather is black. Even the seeds we make into oil, Or grind it back up to fertilize the soil. Nothing is wasted, we use it all. This sweet little gem, the cotton boll. Aren't the sheets soft upon your bed? Think young lady, use your head! So, why oh why is your reaction so drastic? If you don't like it, try sleeping on plastic!