Yo ets a wagon loder con an’ a bale o hay,
Den yo leans er ginst de fence when yo goes tu bray,
I recken som time you’ll ax fo a stool
So you kin set doun yo lazy mule.
Den tu I recken I’ll trade yo off,
Yo lon nekhog, yo ets de hay out de loft,
Now yo kin git mad but I got er nu rule,
Yo good for nothen lazy mule.
And when I goes tu mak dis deal,
Yo run around de barn an’ kick up yo heal,
Stah rit sid dat ole marh Brule
Den de man won’t no he’s giten sich a lazy mule.
Ah, an when he gits yo you’ll cease tu balk,
Fo he am goter a chalklin yo has tu walk,
From dat dah on yo’ll be a liven tool
Dat I’ll en yo actens uv er lazy mule.
An mah de dah come when yo cease tu breve
Den yo’ll flot wid de angles fru de trees,
An de buzzards will fite one mo duel
An I’ll sah dah gones de essene uv dat lazy mule.
THROUGH THE MILL
If I can compose my way to success
Then some time I’ll compose the rest,
It will be of my childhood days
Building mud houses for different plays.
Oh! I was bad and mischievous, too,
And always looking for something to do,
And when I found nothing I surely was sad,
To be good very long would make me mad.
Though I longed to go to school,
But I was poor and fate overruled,
Then my mother, whom I love so dear,
Passed away at the end of the year.
Then I fought this old, rough world,
For I had lost my valued pearl.
And now she sleeps beneath the sod;
It brought me deep sorrow though it’s the will of God.