Sussana Little Gone fore I ever Questions stream through my own Creek blood The odyssey of your
A motherless child , you were torn from your By decree of the affairs Good Christians, gave you a lily-white dress And shorn back that hair
Told ya study Bible, be silent and still And take to the of the whites Nothin they could break down your will For you ran for the gates one
Little Sussana Gone fore I ever Questions that stream through my own Creek that keep you alive
Your daddy , Joe Little, had of his own Drink was much stronger greed But some in the city felt red hands no place to let rest a deed
Oklahoma was with the stench of black oil And the men who came to drill In the sun baked of Indian lands There, in the fields
Little Sussana fore I ever arrived Questions that stream through my own creek thata keep you alive
Mysterious crimes, oh they through the county Waving the of blame turned to Joe Little A couple too acres of land to his name
No one have heard the lone shot in the night never posted his bail Big Joey Little, walked out Of Stantons jail
Sussana Little Gone fore I arrived that stream through my own Creek blood The odyssey of life
For all of the you had lived this far No part of you could have The evil of the men who would fetch ya One night by the of the road
The moon, it grew dark and the frost would ya finally were found Chained to a log in a torn white wild eyed on the ground
Sussana Sussana Gone I ever arrived that stream through my own creek blood Such were the trials of life...
Yet in the to come, you took a man Raised five of own And for a spell it was as as though The light of had shown
The hand that had written part but for you And made it all hard you a gusher, a well spring of oil There in own back yard
So pile them kids in the back seat Ridin in the Packard to town your man, Tom Fisher, one hand on the wheel The other on knee now
Little Sussana fore I ever arrived Questions that stream through my own Creek The of your life
Sussana Little Sussana Little