Lyrics:
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Henry Clay Work's original lyrics:
Say, darkeys, hab you seen de massa,
Wid de muff-stash on his face,
Go long the road some time dis mornin'
Like he gwine to leab de place?
He seen a smoke, 'way up the ribber
Whar the Linkum gunboats lay;
He took his hat an' lef' berry sudden
An' I spec he's run away!
Chorus:
De massa run? Ha ha!
De darkeys stay? Ho ho!
It mus' be now de kingdom comin'
An' de year ob Jubilo!
He six foot one way, two foot tudder,
An' he weigh tree hundred pound;
His coat so big, he couldn't pay de tailor,
An' it won't go half way round.
He drill so much dey call him Cap'n
An' he get so drefful tanned,
I spec he try and fool dem Yankees
For to t'ink he's contraband!
Chorus
De oberseer he make us trouble
An he dribe us round a spell;
We lock him up in de smoke-house cellar
Wid de key trown in de well.
De whip is lost, de han-cuff broken
But de massa'll hab his pay;
He's ole enough, big enough, ought to known better
Dan to went an' run away.
Chorus
De darkeys feel so lonesome, libing
In de log-house on the lawn,
Dey move dar t'ings to massa's parlour,
For to keep it while he's gone.
Dar's wine an' cider in de kitchen,
An' de darkeys dey'll have some;
I spose dey'll all be confiscated
When de Linkum sojers come.
Chorus
The lyrics I use:
O Buddy, have you seen the massa,
With the mustace on his face,
He lit outta here some time this mornin'
Like he goin' to leave ths place?
He seen the smoke, 'way up the river
Where the Lincoln gunboats lay;
He packed his bag an' took off mighty sudden
An' I believe he's run away!
Chorus:
De massa run? Ha ha!
De darkeys stay? Ho ho!
Now mus' be the kingdom comin'
An' de year of Jubilo!
He's six foot one way, three foot the other,
An' he weighs three hundred pound;
His coat's so big, he couldn't pay the tailor,
An' it won't go half way round.
He marched us round so they called him Cap'n
An' he get so mighty tanned,
I spec he try and fool dem Yankees
For to think he's contraband!
Chorus
The overseer he got restless
An he runned us round a spell;
We locked him up in the smoke-house cellar
With the key throwed down the well.
His whip got stolen, his hand got busted
And the massa'll have his pay;
He's ole enough and big enough and ought to know better
Than to try and run away.
Chorus
The darkeys all got lonesome, living
In the log-house on the lawn,
They moved themselves to massa's mansion,
For to keep it while he's gone.
There's wine an' cider in the kitchen,
And the darkeys they'll all have some;
I spect they'll all be confiscated
When de Lincoln soldiers come.
Chorus
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