Days are dreary, night scream alarms Down in Georgia on a stockade farm Doing time for a crime They found me guilty without one dime Guards all around with their guns Shoot me down like a rabbit if I start to run Five long years been out there sufferin' Working from sun to sun Evenin' falls, mornin' comes My daily task is never done Tippin' boxes, Lord Pour all the turpentine balm At night can't raise my arm Both legs shackled to a ball and chain Pleading for mercy, but it's alway in vain Ankles all swollen, can't wear no shoes I've got the meanest kind Of Georgia Stockade Blues Both legs shackled to a ball and chain Pleading for mercy but it's all in vain Ankles all swollen, can't wear no shoes I've got the meanest kind of Georgia Stockade Blues