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American Ballads and Folk Songs
"Speak one word, Albert, An' git my heart some ease— You wuz my man, But you done me wrong."
Albert raise up in his grave,
To old Frankie he said,
"You bein' my lovin' woman,
Kindly put some cracked ice on my head—
I wuz yo' man,
But I done you wrong."
Now Frankie's layin' on old Albert's grave,
Tears rollin' down her face,
Says, "I've loved many a nigger son of a bitch,
But there's none can take Albert's place—
He wuz my man,
But he done me wrong."
En now it's rubber-tired carriages,
An' a rubber-tired hack,
Took old Albert to de graveyard
An' brought his mother back—
His soul's in hell,
His soul's in hell.
B
Sung by Lead Belly, "King of twelve-string guitar players of the world," Angola, Louisiana. |
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