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"
