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"