Way down upon the Swanee River,
Far, far away,
that's where my heart is turning ever,
that's where the old folks stay.
All up and down the whole creation
Sadly I roam,
Still longing for the old plantation,
And for the old folks at home.
All the world am sad and dreary,
Everywhere I roam;
Oh, darkeys, how my heart grows weary,
Far from the old folks at home!
All round the little farm I wandered
When I was young,
Then many happy days I squandered,
Many the songs I sung.
When I was playing with my brudder
Happy was I;
Oh, take me to my kind old mothers!
There let me live and die.
All the world am sad and dreary,
Everywhere I roam;
Oh, darkeys, how my heart grows weary,
Far from the old folks at home!
One little hut among de bushes,
One that I love
Still sadly to my memory rushes,
No matter where I rove.
When will I see de bees a-humming
All round the comb?
When will I hear the banjo strumming,
Down in my good old home?