Lyrics:

I was workin' at Franklins field picking cotton picking greens the sun
Came down
I had to pass you to grind up his cornmeal and every time I did I wish
You could stay around we were just two slaves in a crowded field of slaves
Me a housemaid but we had such a jones for each other ironically in
The midst of these conditions there's still love

Conditional love ironically in the midst of these conditions
Conditional love

Matter of fact I'd risk being abused by the overseer for a moment to get
To know your life I mean our lives ain't that important your physical
Life is the same ol' bad condition as mine but I'm talking bout your
Dreams the things that can't be taken by no one your love

Conditional love ironically in the midst of these conditions
Conditional love