Harvest Song

Las' year wus a good crap year,
An' we raised beans an' 'maters.
We didn' make much cotton an' co'n;
But, Goodness Life, de taters!

You can plow dat ole gray hoss,
I'se gwineter plow dat mulie;
An' w'en we's geddered in de craps,
I'se gwine down to see Julie.

I hain't gwineter wo'k on de railroad.
I hates to wo'k on de fahm.
I jes wants to set in de cool shade,
Wid my head on my Julie's ahm.

You swing Lou, an' I'll swing Sue.
Dere hain't no diffunce 'tween dese two.
You swing Lou, I'll swing my beau;
I'se gwineter buy my gal red calico.