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Version 1D Bm A Here's to the state of Mississippi, D C for underneath her borders, the devil draws no lines. D C If you drag her muddy rivers, nameless bodies you will find. D C whoa, the fat trees of the forest have hid a thousand crimes, D Bm Em A the calender is lyin' when it reads the present time. D Bm G D Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of, Bm A D Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of! D Bm A And here's to the people of Mississippi, D C who say the folks up north, they just don't understand. D C And they tremble in their shadows at the thunder of the Klan, D C the sweating of their souls can't wash the blood from off their hands, D Bm Em A they smile and shrug their shoulders at the murder of a man. D Bm G D Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of, Bm A D Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of! D Bm A And here's to the schools of Mississippi, D C where they're teaching all the children that they don't have to care, D C all the rudiments of hatred are present everywhere, D C and every single classroom is a factory of despair, D Bm Em A and there's nobody learning such a foreign word as “fair”. D Bm G D Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of, Bm A D Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of! D Bm A And here's to the cops of Mississippi, D C they're chewing their tobacco as they lock the prison door, D C their bellies bounce inside them when they knock you to the floor, D C no, they don't like taking prisoners in their private little war, D Bm Em A and behind their broken badges there are murderers and more. D Bm G D Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of, Bm A D Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of! D Bm A And, here's to the judges of Mississippi, D C who wear the robe of honor as they crawl into the court, D C they're guarding all the bastions of their phony legal fort, D C oh, justice is a stranger when the prisoners report, D Bm Em A when the black man stands accused the trial is always short. D Bm G D Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of, Bm A D Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of! D Bm A And here's to the government of Mississippi, D C in the swamp of their bureaucracy they're always bogging down, D C and criminals are posing as the mayors of the towns, D and they hope that no one sees the sights, C and no one hears the sounds, D Bm Em A and the speeches of the governor are the ravings of a clown. D Bm G D Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of, Bm A D Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of! D Bm A And here's to the laws of Mississippi, D C Congressmen will gather in a circus of delay, D C while the Constitution’s drowning in an ocean of decay, D C unwed mothers should be sterilized, I've even heard them say, D Bm Em A yes, corruption can be classic in the Mississippi way. D Bm G D Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of, Bm A D Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of! D Bm A And here's to the churches of Mississippi, D C where the cross, once made of silver, now is caked with rust, D C and the Sunday morning sermons pander to their lust, D C the fallen face of Jesus is choking in the dust, D Bm Em A and heaven only knows in which God they can trust. D Bm G D Whoa, here's to the land you've torn out the heart of, Bm A D Mississippi, find yourself another country to be part of! (capo 4th) (Phil Ochs)