“A man ain’t nothin’ but a man,
Befo’ I work from sun to sun
I’d die wid de hammer in my han’.”
John Henry had a little woman,
Dress she wore was red;
Goin’ down railroad weepin’ and cryin’,
Goin’ where John Henry fall dead.
Say, I ain’t gonna work much longer,
Ain’t gonna work on no farm;
An’ I’m gonna stay here till pay-day,