Sons of the Pioneers - Old Black Joe

Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay

Gone are my friends from the cotton fields away

Gone from the earth to a better land I know

I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe"

I'm coming, I'm coming, for my head is bending low

I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe"

Why do I weep, when my heart should feel no pain?

Why do I sigh that my friends come not again?

Grieving for forms now departed long ago

I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe"

I'm coming, I'm coming, for my head is bending low

I hear their gentle voices calling "Old Black Joe"