He drills so much dey call him cap’n;
And he am so very tan,
Speck he’ll try to fool dem Yankees
And say he’s contraban’.
Chorus.
Dis darkey gets so very lonesome,
In de cabin on de lawn;
He moves his things to massa’s parlor,
To keep ’em, while he’s gone.
There’s wine and cider in de cellar,
And de darkies dey’ll have some;
I speck it will be confiscated,
When de Lincum soldiers come.
Chorus.
De overseer will give us trouble,
And run us round a spell;
We’ll lock him up in smoke-house cellar,
Wid de key thrown in de well.
De whip is lost, and de handcuffs broken,
And massa’ll lose his pay;
He’s big enough and old enough,
Dan to gone and runned away.
Chorus. |
