A-well, the boll weevil and the little black bug
come from a-Mexico they say.
Came all the way to Texas
just a-lookin’ for a place to stay.
Just a-lookin’ for a home, just a-lookin’ for a home.
A-well, the first time I seen the boll weevil
he was a-sittin’ on the square.
A-well, the next time that I seen him
he had with his a-family there.
Just a-lookin’ for a home, just a-lookin’ for a home.
A-well, the farmer took the boll weevil
and he put him on the red hot sand.
Well, the weevil said this is a-mighty hot,
but I take it like a man.
This will be my home, this will be my home.
A-well, the farmer took the boll weevil
and he put him on a keg of ice.
A-well, the weevil said to the farmer:
This is mighty cool and nice.
This will be my home, this will be my home.
Well, if anybody should ask you
who it was who sang this song,
say a guitar picker from a-Oklahoma City
with a pair of blue jeans on.
Just a-lookin’ for a home, just a-lookin’ for a home.