Old Folks at Home

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    Way down upon de Swanee Ribber,
      Far, far away,
    Dere's wha my heart is turning ebber,
      Dere's wha de old folks stay.
    All up and down de whole creation
      Sadly I roam,
    Still longing for de old plantation,
      And for de old folks at home.

        All de world am sad and dreary,
          Eberywhere I roam;
        Oh, darkeys, how my heart grows weary,
          Far from de old folks at home!

    All round de little farm I wandered
      When I was young,
    Den many happy days I squandered,
      Many de songs I sung.
    When I was playing wid my brudder
      Happy was I;
    Oh, take me to my kind old mudder!
      Dere let me live and die.

    One little hut among de bushes,
      One dat I love,
    Still sadly to my memory rushes,
      No matter where I rove.
    When will I see de bees a-humming
      All round de comb?
    When will I hear de banjo tumming,
      Down in my good old home?

        All de world am sad and dreary,
          Eberywhere I roam;
        Oh, darkeys, how my heart grows weary,
          Far from de old folks at home!