Granddaddy died young In the Yazoo heat Papa tried his whole life To make ends meet My pride couldn't take it I cussed the boss, I had to run With a dolla' in my pocket I hit Highway 61 I wonder where Gonna lay my head Some hollow log Bound to be my bed Nothin' but the clothes on my back But the worries on my mind weigh like a ton With a dolla' in my pocket I hit Highway 61 I hear everybody talkin' 'Bout Chicago Say there's plenty jobs up there But the winters mighty cold Rather be freezin' Than hangin' from the trees in the Mississippi sun With a dolla' in my pocket I hit Highway 61 I musta lost my mind Couldn't hold my tongue Them words I shouted Will get a black man hung Can't take 'em back I had to run With a dolla' in my pocket I hit Highway 61