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Plantation Pieces, Camp Meeting Songs
OLD BLACK JOE
Old Black Joe went hobbling, Went hobbling down the street,
Rags upon his shoulders And rags upon his feet.
He told a simple story
That I would have you know, The gospel of the toiler
And the gospel of the hoe.
Bo'n down in the Souf, Sah,
Bo'n befo' de wah, I never knew my Mother
Nor what my life was for.
They talk about the bible And where I've got to go,
But I couldn't learn the bible When I had to learn the hoe.
And when I get to heaven Where any weeds done grow,
I guess the Lord will take me If I show the Lord my hoe.
And as a finite judgment On creeds and things below,
I want no better argument Than old Black Joe.