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American Ballads and Folk Songs |
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Dey had me tied with a ball and chain,
Waitin' all ready £er de east-bound train j
And every station we pass by
Seem like I heard little Ida cry.
Oh, weep! Oh, my Ida!
Fer over dat road Ise bound to go.
If I had listened to whut Ida said,
I'd been sleepin' in Ida's bed}
But I pay no mind to my Ida Red,
An' now Ise sleepin' in a convict's bed.
Oh, weep! Oh, my Ida!
Fer over dat road Ise bound to go.
I wash my face and I comb my head, Ise a mighty fool about Ida Red; When I git out of dis old shack, Tell little Ida Ise comin' back. Oh, weep! Oh, my Ida! Fer over dat road Ise bound to go.
BIG JIM*
Cold and chill is de winter wind, Big Jim's dead an' gone. Big Jim wuz my lovin' man; Gawd! de years seem long, oh, long! Long, oh, long are de years!
He wuz good and kind to me,
Jim wuz a grinder too,
But nothin' now won't bring him back,
Nothin' I can do.
Long, oh, long, are de years!
♦From R. V. Utter, Vicksburg, Mississippi, through Professor R. P. Utter, University of California.
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