| Song | Lee County Flood |
| Artist | William Elliott Whitmore |
| Album | Song of the Blackbird |
| 作词 : Whitmore | |
| The summer wind is blowing westward | |
| Over the field of fresh moved hay | |
| Let's go up to the barn loft | |
| Lay back and watch the sparrows play | |
| I can see the evening sky | |
| From the holes rusted in the tin | |
| Let's close our eyes and fall asleep | |
| And listen to the storm roll in | |
| It sounded like a thousand horses' hooves | |
| The sound of the pourin' rain on the old tin roof | |
| The clouds were as black as the smoke form the stack | |
| Of an old coal-burning train | |
| Lay back and listen to the sound of the pourin' rain | |
| It ain't rained in weeks and now it just won't stop | |
| All the rivers and the creeks | |
| Are getting fuller with every drop | |
| If the levee holds it's ground | |
| And keeps that water back | |
| The Mississippi won't reach my little tar-paper shack | |
| Well now the sun shines on the roof | |
| And the moonshine is in the cellar | |
| And what a happy feller I am | |
| To finally see the sun | |
| Now that the rain is done | |
| 'cause I've had about all I can stand | |
| I can't tell where my pond begins | |
| An where my cornfield ends | |
| The cattle done floated away | |
| 'cause the water's up over the fence |
| zuò cí : Whitmore | |
| The summer wind is blowing westward | |
| Over the field of fresh moved hay | |
| Let' s go up to the barn loft | |
| Lay back and watch the sparrows play | |
| I can see the evening sky | |
| From the holes rusted in the tin | |
| Let' s close our eyes and fall asleep | |
| And listen to the storm roll in | |
| It sounded like a thousand horses' hooves | |
| The sound of the pourin' rain on the old tin roof | |
| The clouds were as black as the smoke form the stack | |
| Of an old coalburning train | |
| Lay back and listen to the sound of the pourin' rain | |
| It ain' t rained in weeks and now it just won' t stop | |
| All the rivers and the creeks | |
| Are getting fuller with every drop | |
| If the levee holds it' s ground | |
| And keeps that water back | |
| The Mississippi won' t reach my little tarpaper shack | |
| Well now the sun shines on the roof | |
| And the moonshine is in the cellar | |
| And what a happy feller I am | |
| To finally see the sun | |
| Now that the rain is done | |
| ' cause I' ve had about all I can stand | |
| I can' t tell where my pond begins | |
| An where my cornfield ends | |
| The cattle done floated away | |
| ' cause the water' s up over the fence |