My daddy is resting there peaceful
Where they take the poor folk when the die
I remember all the years and the hard times
How mom and daddy strived to make things right
How mama sacrificed,how daddy worked day and night
So us kids could have enough to eat
Chorus
Potter's Field,where the poor folks's go
No fancy stones,will it show
and when death comes,and I must yield
Just let me rest,in Potter's field
Then one Sunday morning came the phone call
My mamma lay on her death bed
She gathered all the children around her
So they'd hear exactly what she said
My children you know that we have money
And I could have the finest plot of ground
But I'd rather lie beside your father
In Potters field,just outside of town
Repeat Chorus
