Lyrics
Your Honour,
Gentlemen of the Jury,
And the good people of Georgia.
There is a farmhouse in Marietta
Kinda battered and forlorn
And in that farmhouse, fourteen years ago
A girl named Mary was born.
And she would dance in fields of cotton
There was a tree where she could play,
But when her daddy died two years ago,
Mary and her momma moved away.
It's only twenty miles from Marietta,
To a fact'ry in the center of this town,
And twenty miles was all it took,
To strike that sweet girl down.
People of Atlanta fought for freedom to their graves,
But now their ciry is a fact'ry and their children are it's slaves,
People of Atlanta swing their city gate's wide,
And look at what you've wrought.
