8. Old Folks At Home Composer: Foster 'Way down upon the 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 logging for the old plantation, And for the old folks at home. R.: All de world am sad and drearry Ebrywhere I roam; Oh! Darkies, how my heart grows weary, Far from the old folks at home. All round de litle farm I wander'd, When I was young, Den many happy days I sqander'd, 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. R. One little hut among de bushes, One dat I love, Still sadly to my memry rushes, No matter wha I roam. When will I see de bees ahumming All round de comb? When will I hear the banjo tumming Down in my good old home? R.
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