MASSA'S IN DE COLD GROUND
By Stephen C. Foster
(1826-1864)

Round de meadows am a ringing 
De darkeys' mournful song,
While de mockingbird am singing,
Happy as de day am long.
Where de ivy am a creeping
O'er de grassy mound,
Dare old massa am a sleeping,
Sleeping in de cold, cold ground.

CHORUS:

Down in de corn-field
Hear dat mournful sound:
All de darkeys am a weeping,
Massa's in de cold, cold ground.

When de autumn leaves were falling,
When de days were cold,
'Twas hard to hear old massa calling,
Cayse he was so weak and old.
Now de orange trees am blooming
On de sandy shore,
Now de summer days are coming,
Massa nebber calls no more.

CHORUS

Massa made de darkeys love him,
Cayse he was so kind,
Now dey sadly weep above him,
Mourning cayse he leave dem behind.
I cannot work before tomorrow,
Cayse de tear drops flow,
I try to drive away my sorrow
Pickin on de old banjo.

CHORUS

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