Peach Pickin' Time Down In Georgia

When it’s peach pickin' time in Georgia.
Apple pickin' time in Tennessee.
Cotton pickin' time in Mississippi.
Everybody picks on me.
When it’s round-up time in Texas, the cowboys make 'whoopee'.
Then down in old Alabama, it’s gal pickin' time for me.
There’s the bluegrass down in Kentucky.
Virginia is where they do the swing.
Carolina, now I’m coming to you to spend the spring.
Arkansas, I hear you calling.
I know i’ll see you soon.
There’s where I’ll do a little pickin' underneath the Ozark moon.
Now when hard times overtake you, I hope they don’t get me.
For I got a sweetie waiting for me down in Tennessee.
I know I’m going to see her.
I hope it won’t be long.
There’s where we’ll pick a little cabin, and call it our mountain home.
When the pickaninnys pick the cotton, I’ll pick a wedding ring.
We will go to town, a pick a little gown, for the wedding in the spring.
I hope the preacher knows his business.
I know he can’t fool me.
When it’s peach pickin' time in Georgia, it’s gal pickin' time for me.