My mama was a widow, raised us on her own

She didn’t have it easy, but never let us know

We thought we were the richest kids, out on that big old farm

She fed us well and clothed us, and kept us from all harm

Chicken backs and taters, fresh cabbage and a cake

She called them poor man’s meals, but ooh what a taste

Mama did such wonders with what she had at hand

Chicken backs and taters, the best in all the land

She never had much money, and when the funds got low

She took her few sad dollars, and off to town she’d go

She’d come home with a pack of bony chicken backs

And boil them up with taters from a dusty burlap sack

Chicken backs and taters, fresh cabbage and a cake

She called them poor man’s meals, but ooh what a taste

Mama did such wonders with what she had at hand

Chicken backs and taters, the best in all the land

***