Ole Mosser give me a pound o' meat.
I e't it all on Mond'y;
Den I e't 'is 'lasses all de week,
An' buttermilk fer Sund'y.
Ole Mosser give me a peck o' meal,
I fed and cotch my tucky;
But I e't dem 'lasses all de week,
An' buttermilk fer Sund'y.
Oh laugh an' sing an' don't git tired.
We's all gwine home, some Mond'y,
To de honey ponds an' fritter trees;
An' ev'ry day'll be Sund'y.
MY FIDDLE
If my ole fiddle wus jes in chune,
She'd bring me a dollar ev'y Friday night in June.
W'en my ole fiddle is fixed up right,
She bring me a dollar in nearly ev'y night.
W'en my ole fiddle begin to sing,
She make de whole plantation ring.
She bring me in a dollar an' sometime mō'.
Hurrah fer my ole fiddle an' bow!
DIE IN THE PIG-PEN FIGHTING
Dat ole sow said to de barrer:
"I'll tell you w'at let's do:
Let's go an' git dat broad-axe
And die in de pig-pen too."
"Die in de pig-pen fightin'!
Yes, die, die in de wah!
Die in de pig-pen fightin',
Yes, die wid a bitin' jaw!"