What will we do when de great day comes.
Sounding of da horns and a-banging of de drums.
All you sinners a gwine to be late.
And you'll find no latch on de golden gate.
No use of waiting till to-morrow.
Sun will never set on your sorrow;
Colored man's smarter dan a bamboo briar,
Shouting, send 'em higher and higher.
Went down to de cellar to draw a glass of elder,
Dora I seen a great big spider.
Spider and a bed bug had a little tussle,
Spider busted open de bedbug's bustle.-Chorus.