CHAPTER IV
BAD MAN BALLADS AND JAMBOREE
There is this fortunate circumstance which con-
tributes to the completeness and vividness of the
Negro portraits as found in workaday songs: the whole
picture is often epitomized in each of several characters
or types of singers and their songs. Thus the picture
may be viewed from all sides and from different angles,
with such leisure and repetition as will insure accurate
impressions. One of these types is the "po' boy long
way from home" singing down "that lonesome road,"
as represented in the previous chapter. Whether in
his ordinary daily task, or on his pilgrimages afar, or
in the meshes of the law, this singer approaches per-
fection in the delineation of his type. Another type
is that to be found in the story of Left Wing Gordon
as presented in Chapter XII, and of John Henry in
Chapter XIII. Likewise, the songs of jail and chain
gang, the songs of women and love, and the specialized
road songs all embody that fine quality of full and
complete reflection of the folk spirit in the Negro's
workaday life and experience.
There is perhaps no type, however, which comes more
nearly summarizing certain situations, experiences,
and backgrounds than the Negro "bad man," whose
story will make an heroic tale of considerable pro-
portions. In many ways the "bad man from bad
man's land" is a favorite. He is eulogized by the
youngsters and sung by the worker by the side of the
road. One preacher even described Christ as a man
who would "stand no foolin' wid." "Jesus such great
man, no one lak him. Lord, he could pop lion's head
48 Negro Workaday Songs
off jes' lak he wus fryin'-size chicken an' could take
piece o' mountain top and throw it across the world."
And as for that other bad man, "Nicotemus," why-
Jesus, when he got through with him, had him following
behind a donkey like any other slave. l There was
that other young Negro who "was no comfort to
preacher, but was a hawk like pizen. Mens like him
and wimmin belonged to him wid his winnin' ways."
In a previous volume 2 we pointed out some of the
characteristic experiences and modes of the Negro
bum, "bully of this town," Railroad Bill, Stagolee,
Brady, and the others, of twenty years ago. Since
that time the tribe has apparently not diminished and
flourishes well in the atmosphere of modern life,
migration, and the changing conditions of race re-
lations. Of the statistical and environmental aspects
of the Negro criminal much will be reported in another
study. 3 In this chapter we are concerned with the
portrait of a type, perhaps inexorably drawn into the
maelstrom of his day and turned into an inevitable
product. He is no less an artist than the wanderer,
the "travelin' man," or Left Wing Gordon. He is the
personification of badness mixed with humor, of the
bad man and the champion of exploits. We have
already referred to the Negro who "wus so mean wus
skeered of hisself," competitor to that other one
whose
. . . eyes wus red an' his gums wus blue,
'Cause he wus a nigger right through and through.
There were still other companions to these in Slippery
Jim, Slewfoot Pete, and Ann-Eliza Stone, "mean wid
1 Cited by Dr. E. C. L. Adams of Columbia, S. C.
2 The Negro and His Songs, page 164 seq.
3 A study of Negro crime directed by J. F. Steiner, for the Institute
for Research in Social Science, at the University of North Carolina.
Bad Man Ballads and Jamboree 49
her habbits on" and breaking up the "jamboree." *
A common phrase, indeed, threatened always to "break
up dis jamboree" in exchange for slighting one's
"repertation."
Many are the bad men, and vivid the descriptions.
Said one, "Lawd, cap'n, take me till tomorrow night
to tell 'bout dat boy. Eve'ybody skeered uv him.
John Wilson jes nachelly bully, double j'inted, awful
big man, didn't fear 'roun' nobody. Would break
up ev'y do he 'tended. Go to picnic, take all money
off'n table. Couldn't do nothin' wid him. Seen
feller shoot at him nine times once an' didn't do nothin
to him, an' he run an' caught up wid feller an' bit
chunk meat out o' his back, . . . but one man
got him wid britch loader an' stop 'im from suckin'
eggs."
We have found no black bad-man ballads superior to
the old ones, Railroad Bill, Stagolee, That Bully of
this Town, Desperado Bill, Eddy Jones, Joe Turner,
Brady, 2 and the others. And yet, the current stories
sung on the road are more accurate portrayals of actual
characters and experiences, and perhaps less finished
songs, less formal rhyme. Take Lazarus, for instance,
a hard luck story, portraying something of Negro
sympathy, burial custom, general reaction. Here is a
character more to be pitied than censured, according
to his companions. Listen to three pick-and-shovel
men, tracing "po' Lazarus" from the work camp where
he, poor foolish fellow, robbed the commissary camp
and then took to his heels. Thence between the
mountains where the high sheriff shot him down, back
to the camp and burying ground, with mother, wife,
1 See Swan and Abbot, in Eight Negro Songs, New York, 1923.
2 The Negro and His Songs, pages 196-212.
50 Negro Workaday Songs
brothers, sisters, comrades weeping, attending the
funeral, where they "put po' Lazarus away at half
pas' nine."
Bad Man Lazarus
Oh, bad man Lazarus,
Oh, bad man Lazarus,
He broke in de commissary,
Lawd, he broke in de commissary.
He been paid off,
He been paid off,
Lawd, Lawd, Lawd,
He been paid off.
Commissary man,
Commissary man,
He jump out commissary window,
Lawd, he jump out commissary window.
Startin' an' fall,
O Lawd, Lawd, Lawd,
Commissary man startin' an' he fall,
O Lawd, Lawd, Lawd.
Commissary man swore out,
Lawd, commissary man swore out,
Lawd, commissary man swore out
Warrant for Lazarus.
O bring him back,
Lawd, bring him back,
O Lawd, Lawd, Lawd,
Bring Lazarus back.
They began to wonder,
Lawd, they began to wonder,
Lawd, they began to wonder
Where Lazarus gone.
Where in world,
Lawd, where in world,
Lawd, where in world
Will they find him?
Bad Man Ballads and Jamboree 51
Well, I don't know,
I don 't know,
Well, Lawd, Lawd,
Well, I don 't know.
Well, the sheriff spied po' Lazarus,
Well, the sheriff spied po' Lazarus,
Lawd, sheriff spied po' Lazarus
Way between Bald Mountain.
They blowed him down,
Well, they blowed him down,
Well, Lawd, Lawd,
They blowed him down.
They shot po' Lazarus,
Lawd, they shot po' Lazarus,
Lawd, they shot po' Lazarus
With great big number,
Well, forty-five,
Lawd, great big forty-five,
Lawd, forty-five,
Turn him roun'.
They brought po' Lazarus,
And they brought po' Lazarus,
Lawd, they brought po' Lazarus
Back to the shanty.
Brought him to de number nine,
Lawd, brought him to number nine,
Lawd, they brought him to the number nine,
Lawd, they brought po' Lazarus to number nine.
01' friend Lazarus say,
Lawd, old friend Lazarus say,
Lawd, old friend Lazarus say,
"Give me cool drink of water.
"Befo' I die
Good Lawd, 'fo' I die,
Give me cool drink of water,
Lawd, 'fo' I die."
52 Negro Workaday Songs
Lazarus' mother say,
Lawd, Lazarus' mother say,
"Nobody know trouble
I had with him,
"Since daddy died,
Lawd, since daddy been dead,
Nobody know the trouble I had
Since daddy been dead."
They goin' bury po' Lazarus,
Lawd, they goin' bury ol' Lazarus,
They goin' bury po' Lazarus
In the mine.
At half pas' nine, O Lawd,
Good Lawd, Lawd, Lawd,
Goin' bury po' Lazarus
At half pas' nine.
Me an' my buddy,
Lawd, me an' my buddy,
We goin' over to bury him,
Half pas' nine.
Half pas' nine,
O Lawd, Lawd, half pas' nine,
We goin' over to bury him,
Half pas' nine.
Lazarus' mother say,
"Look over yonder,
How dey treatin' po' Lazarus,
Lawd, Lawd, Lawd."
They puttin' him away,
Lawd, they puttin' him away,
Lawd, they puttin' Lazarus away,
Half pas' nine.
It would be difficult to find a scene and setting more
appealing than this ballad being sung by a group of
workingmen in unison, with remarkable harmony, fine
voices, inimitable manner. "Doesn't this singing
Bad Man Ballads and Jamboree 53
hinder you in your work?" we asked one of the pick-
and-shovel men, just to see what type of reply he would
make. With first a slow look of surprise, then a sort
of pity for the man who would ask such a question,
then a "Lawdy-Lawd-Cap'n" outburst of laughter,
"Cap'n dat's whut makes us work so much better, an'
it nuthin' else but." And one of the group acted the
part of the "shouter" very much like the hearers in
the church. He would sing a while, then dig away in
silence, then burst out with some exhorter's exclamation
about the song, giving zest to the singing, contrast
to the imagery, authority to the story. Once as the
singers recorded the shooting of Lazarus, he shouted,
"Yes, yes, Lawd, Lawd, I seed 'em, I wus dere";
and again when they sang of his mother weeping,
"Yes, Lawd, I wus right dere when she come a-runnin'.
I know it's true." Taken all in all, the sorrowful
story of Lazarus, with its painstaking sequence and
its melody as sung on this occasion, it is doubtful if
ever Negro spiritual surpassed it in beauty and
poignancy.
The above version was heard at Danielsville, Georgia.
A similar but shorter one, current in North Carolina,
is called Billy Bob Russell. "Reason why dey calls
it dat is Billy Bob Russell an' Lazarus been buddies
for years, pretty mean boys til dey gits grown. Billy
Bob Russell, he's from Georgia an' I think Lazarus
act sorta like robber or highway robber or somethin',
follow road camp all time." l
1 Other Negroes affirm that Billy Bob Russell was a white man, a Georgia
construction foreman and a very noted one.
54 Negro Workaday Songs
Billy Bob Russell
Cap'n tol' high sheriff,
"Go an' bring me Lazarus,
Bring him dead or alive,
Lawd, bring him dead or alive."
Eve'ybody wonder
Where in world dey would find him,
Then I don't know,
Cap'n, I don't know.
Lazarus tol' high sheriff,
He had never been 'rested
By no one man,
Lawd, Lawd, by no one man.
Then they found po' Lazarus
In between two mountains,
Wid his head hung down,
Lawd, Lawd, wid his head hung down.
Shoot po' Lazarus,
Carried him over to shanty,
Lawd, shoot po' Lazarus,
Carried him over to shanty.
Lazarus' sister she run
An' tol' her mother
That Lazarus wus dead,
Lawd, Lazarus wus dead.
Then Lazarus tol' high sheriff,
"Please turn me over
On my wounded side,
Lawd, on my wounded side."
Lazarus tol' high sheriff,
"Please give me drink water
Jes' befo' I die,
Lawd, jes' befo' I die."
Bad Man Ballads and Jamboree 55
Lazarus' mother,
She laid down her sewin',
She wus thinkin' bout trouble
She had had wid Lazarus.
In contrast to the more finished rhyming stanzas of
Railroad Bill and the earlier heroic epics, note the
simple, vivid ballad-in-the-making type of unrhymed
song so common as a type of pick-and-shovel melody.
Note the accuracy of the picture, its trueness to actual
workaday experience, the phrase description. Such
a song in the making and in the rendering defies
description or competition as a folk-mirror. Differing
somewhat and yet of the same general sort of charac-
terization is the current story of Dupree, versions of
which have been taken from Asheville, North Carolina,
and various other places in Georgia and North Carolina.
One of the most interesting aspects of this Dupree
song is that it may be compared with the Atlanta
ballad of the white Frank Dupree as popularly sung
on the phonograph records. The story of the white
culprit warns his young friends in the usual way and
asks them to meet him in heaven. His crime was,
first, snatching a diamond ring for his sweetheart,
then shooting the policeman to death, then fleeing
but coming back because he could not stay away from
his "Betty." There is little similarity of expression
between the white version and the Negro one. Here
is the more finished of the Negro songs.
Dupree
Dupree was a bandit,
He was so brave and bol',
He stoled a diamond ring
For some of Betty's jelly roll.
56 Negro Workaday Songs
Betty tol' Dupree,
"I want a diamond ring."
Dupree tol' Betty,
"I'll give you anything."
"Michigan water
Taste like cherry wine, 1
The reason I know:
Betty drink it all the time.
"I'm going away
To the end of the railroad track.
Nothing but sweet Betty
Can bring me back."
Dupree tol' the lawyer,
"Clear me if you can,
For I have money to back me,
Sure as I'm a man."
The lawyer tol' Dupree,
"You are a very brave man,
But I think you will
Go to jail and hang."
Dupree tol' the judge,
"I am not so brave and bol',
But all I wanted
Was Betty's jelly roll."
The judge tol' Dupree,
"Jelly roll's gonna be your ruin."
"No, no, judge, for that is
What I've done quit doin'."
The judge tol' Dupree,
"I believe you quit too late,
Because it is
Already your fate."
In striking contrast to the Dupree just given is one
sung by a young Negro who had been in the chain gang
1 See phonograph record, Michigan Water Blues.
Bad Man Ballads and Jamboree 57
a number of times and whose major repertoire consisted
of the plaintive chain gang songs. Here the singer
has translated the version into his own vernacular,
varying lines, eschewing rhyme, carrying his story
through the regular channels of the prison type.
The lines are given exactly as sung, repetitions and
irregularities constituting their chief distinction. And
yet something of the same story runs through it. It
is perhaps a little nearer the Atlanta version, and the
singer adds still another interpretation that Dupree
and Betty had quarreled and as a result Dupree had
killed her and hidden her body in the sawdust. An
interesting local color is that Dupree was sent to
Milledgeville, Georgia, where as a matter of fact is
situated the combined state prison and hospital.
Here, then, is the song with its mixed imagery and
reflection of a certain mentality.
Dupree Tol' Betty
Betty tol' Dupree
She want a diamond ring;
Betty tol' Dupree
She want a diamond ring.
Dupree tol' Betty,
Gonna pawn his watch an' chain;
Dupree tol' Betty,
Gonna pawn his watch an' chain.
Dupree left here cold in han',
Dupree left here cold in han',
But when he git back to Georgia,
He was wrapped up all in chains.
Dupree tol' Betty,
"Gonna git that diamond ring."
Betty tol' Dupree,
"If you stay in love with me,
58 Negro Workaday Songs
Hurry an' git that diamond ring;
If you stay in love with me,
Hurry an' git that diamond ring."
Dupree tol' Betty,
He git that diamond ring;
Dupree tol' Betty,
He git that diamond ring,
He went to the pawnshop
An' snatched the diamond ring,
He went to the pawnshop
An' snatched the diamond ring.
High-sheriff come git Dupree,
Took him in the jail.
Lawd, jail keeper come and git Dupree,
Took him to the jail.
Lawd, jail keeper took Dupree
An' put him in his cell,
Lawd, jail keeper took Dupree
An' put him in his cell.
Dupree ask the sheriff
What he had done,
Lawd, Dupree ask the sheriff
What he had done.
Sheriff tol' him
He had snatched diamond, ring,
Sheriff told him
He had snatched diamond ring.
Dupree say he ain't killed no man.
Jailer tol' him take it easy,
'Cause he done snatched the diamond ring,
'Cause he done snatched the diamond ring.
He say, "I aint got no case 'gainst you
But I bound to put you in jail."
He say, "I aint got no case 'gainst you
But I bound to put you in jail."
Dupree laid in jail
So long they tried to hang him;
They tried to take him to court
Bad Man Ballads and Jamboree 59
An' taken him back again,
Judge give him the same old sentence,
Lawd, judge give him the same old sentence.
Say, "Dupree you kill that po' little girl
An' hid her in the sawdust.
Dupree, we got hangin' for you,
Sorry, Dupree, we got to hang po' you."
They try to take him to Milledgeville,
Lawd, tried to take him to Milledgeville,
Put him in a orphans' home,
Lawd, to keep him out of jail.
A popular bad man song of many versions is the
Travelling Man. No one has ever outdistanced him.
A long story, rapidly moving, miraculously achieving,
triumphantly ending, it represents jazz song, phono-
graph record, banjo ballad, quartet favorite, although
it is not easy to capture. Three versions have been
found in the actual singing, one by a quartet which
came to Dayton, Tennessee, to help entertain the
evolution mongers; another by Kid Ellis, of Spartan-
burg, South Carolina, himself a professed traveling
man; a third by a North Carolina Negro youth who
had, however, migrated to Pennsylvania and re-
turned after traveling in seven or eight other states
of the union. The South Carolina version, which is
given here, is of the Ain't Gonna Rain No Mo'
type of vaudeville and ballad mixture.
Travelin' Man
Now I jus' wanna tell you 'bout travelin' man,
His home was in Tennessee;
He made a livin' stealin' chickens
An' anything he could see.
Chorus:
He was a travelin' man,
He certainly was a travelin' man,
60 Negro Workaday Songs
He was mos' travelin' man
That ever was in this Ian'.
And when the law got after that coon,
He certainly would get on the road.
An' if a train pass, no matter how fas'.
He certainly would get on boa'd.
He was a travelin' man,
Was seen for miles aroun ',
He never got caught, an' never give up
Until the police shot him down.
The police shot him with a rifle,
An' the bullet went through his head,
The people came for miles aroun'
To see if he was dead.
They sent down South for his mother,
She was grieved and moved with tears,
Then she open the coffin to see her son,
An' the fool had disappeared.
The police got in an auto
An' started to chase that coon,
They run him from six in the mornin'
Till seven that afternoon.
The coon ran so bloomin' fast
That fire come from his heels;
He scorched the cotton an' burnt the corn
An' cut a road through the farmer's* fields.
The coon went to the spring one day
To get a pail of water;
The distance he had to go
Was two miles and a quarter.
He got there an' started back,
But he stumbled an' fell down;
He went to the house and got another pail,
An' caught the water 'fore it hit the ground.
The coon stole a thousand dollars,
Was in broad open day time.
Bad Man Ballads and Jamboree 61
I ast the coon if he wa'n't ashame
To commit such an awful crime.
They put the coon on the gallows
An' told him he would die;
He crossed his legs an' winked his eye
And sailed up in the sky.
The coon got on the Titanic
An' started up the ocean blue,
But when he saw the iceberg,
Right overboa 'd he flew.
The white folks standin' on the deck,
Said "Coon, you are a fool."
But 'bout three minutes after that
He was shootin' craps in Liverpool.
For the rest of this picture of the bad man the simple
presentation of songs and fragments in sufficient num-
bers to illustrate main types will suffice. His name is
legion, and he ranks all the way from the "polish
man" to the "boll-weevil nigger," much despised of the
common man of the better sort. Bad men come into
peaceful and industrious communities and disturb the
peace. They flow in from other states to add to the
number of offenders, yet in spite of their numbers and
character, the church throng, the picnic, the funeral
and other social occasions seem to have much fewer
murders and fracases than formerly. If the bad man
can be turned into song and verse, with the picture of
adventure and romance becoming more and more
mythical, the Negro will profit by the evolution. For
the present, however, here are samples of the por-
trayals most commonly sung, with apologies to all
improvisators, minstrel artists, and white-folk im-
itators of Negro verse. " .
62 Negro Workaday Songs
Bolin Jones
Bolin Jones wuz
A man of might,
He worked all day
And he fit all night.
O Lawsy, Lawsy,
He's a rough nigger,
Han' to his hip,
Fingers on de trigger.
Lay 'em low,
Lay 'em low,
When Bolin's 'round,
Mind whar you go.
Roscoe Bill
I'm de rowdy from over de hill,
I'm de rowdy called Roscoe Bill,
Roscoe Bill, Roscoe Bill,
When I shoots I'm boun' to kill.
I'm Roscoe Bill
Dat never gits skeered,
Goes frum shack to shack,
Tries de udder man's bed.
I'm Roscoe Bill,
De man of might,
Plum tickled to death
When I raise a fight.
I'm Roscoe Bill
Dat de women all foller.
Takes what dey got,
Den steals deir dollar.
Layin' Low
Layin' low, never know
When de cops about.
Shootin' crap on my gal's lap,
I've got to go my route.
Bad Man Ballads and Jamboree 63
Layin' low, never know,
When de p'liceman's walkin' about,
Walkin' in, stalkin' about,
Dat p'liceman's walkin' about.
Don't Fool Wid Me
Dark town alley's too small a place
For me and that cop to have a fair race.
I lay low till de night am dark,
Den dis here nigger is out for a lark.
Han's up, nigger, don't fool wid me,
I put nigger whar he ought-a be.
Creepin' 'Roun'
Work in de mornin',
In de evenin' I sleep.
When de dark comes, Lawd,
Dis nigger got to creep.
Chorus:
Creepin' 'roun',
Creepin' in,
Creepin' everywhere
A creeper's been.
Eats in de mornin',
In de evenin' I looks 'roun'.
When de dark comes, Lawd,
A chocolate gal I've foun'.
Shootin' Bill
Dere's a nigger on my track,
Dere's a nigger on my track,
Dere's a nigger on my track,
Let de undertaker take him back.
I'm a man shoots de two-gun fire,
I'm a man shoots de two-gun fire,
I'm a man shoots de two-gun fire,
I'se got a gal who's a two-faced liar.
64 Negro Workaday Songs
When I shoots, I shoots to kill,
When I shoots, I shoots to kill,
When I shoots, I shoots to kill,
Dat's why dey fears Shootin' Bill!
I Am Ready For de Fight
When at night I makes my bed,
When at night I makes my bed,
When at night I makes my bed,
Puts my feets up to de head.
If dey hunts me in de night,
If dey hunts me in de night,
If dey hunts me in de night,
I am ready fer de fight.
I sleeps wid one year out,
I sleeps wid one year out,
I sleeps wid one year out,
Got to know when dem rounders 'bout.
Up an' down dis worP,
Up an' down dis worl',
Up an' down dis worl',
Lookin' fer dat tattlin' gal.
Slim Jim From Dark-town Alley
Slim Jim wus a chocolate drop,
Slim Jim wus a chocolate drop,
Slim Jim wus a chocolate drop
From dark-town alley.
Slim Jim drapped down a cop,
Slim Jim drapped down a cop,
Slim Jim drapped down a cop
In dark-town alley.
Hy Jim, hey Jim, we got you at las',
Hy Jim, hey Jim, we got you at las',
Hy Jim, hey Jim, we got you at las'
In dark-town alley.
Bad Man Ballads and Jamboree 65
De jails kotch him at las', dat chocolate drop,
De jails kotch him at las', dat chocolate drop,
De jails kotch him at las', dat chocolate drop
From dark-town al-ley.
Dem bars wus strong, but Chocolate melted away,
Dem bars wus strong, but Chocolate melted away,
Dem bars wus strong, but Chocolate melted away,
Back to dark-town alley.
I'm a Natural-bo'n Ram'ler
I'm a natural-bo'n ram'ler,
I'm a natural-bo'n ram'ler,
I'm a natural-bo'n ram'ler,
An' it ain 't no lie.
I travels about on Monday night,
I travels about when de moon is bright.
I travels about on Tuesday, too,
I travels about when got nuthin' else to do.
I travels about on Wednesday mo'n,
Been travelin' ever since I been bo'n,
On Thurs' I rambles 'round de town,
Dey aint no Jane kin hoi' me down.
Friday ketches me wid my foot in my han',
I'm de out-derndest traveler of any man.
Saturday's de day I rambles fo' sumpin to eat,
An' Sunday de day dis ram'ler sleeps.
I'm de Hot Stuff Man
I'm de hot stuff man
Frum de devil's Ian'.
Go on, nigger,
Don't you try to buck me,
I'm de hot stuff man
Frum de devil's Ian'.
I'm a greasy streak o' lightnin',
Don't you see?
Don't you see?
Don't you see?
66 Negro Workaday Songs
I can cuss, I can cut,
I can shoot a nigger up.
Go on, nigger,
Don't you try to buck me,
I'm de fas'est man,
Can clean up de Ian'.
I'm a greasy streak o' lightnin',
Can't you see?
I'm a greasy streak o' lightin',
Can't you see?
Reuben 1
Dat you, Reuben?
Dat you, Reuben?
Den dey laid ol' Reuben down so low.
Say ol' Reuben had a wife,
He's in trouble all his life.
Den dey lay Reuben down so low.
Dat you Reuben?
Dat you Reuben?
Den dey laid Reuben down so low.
Says ol' Reuben mus' go back,
When he pawn his watch an' hack.
Den dey laid Reuben down so low.
Says ol' Reuben mus' be dead,
When he laid upon his bed.
Den dey laid Reuben down so low.
Dat you Reuben?
Dat you Reuben?
Den dey laid Reuben down so low.
Bloodhoun' on My Track
Bloodhoun' from Macon right on my track,
Right on my track, right on my track.
Bloodhoun' from Macon right on my track,
Wonder who gonna stan' my bon' ?
1 We are told that this song is common among the whites of Western
North Carolina.
Bad Man Ballads and Jamboree 67
Buffalo Bill
I'm de bad nigger,
If you wants to know;
Look at dem rounders
In de cemetery row.
Shoot, nigger,
Shoot to kill,
Who's you foolin' wid?
My Buffalo Bill?
Buffalo Bill
Wus a man of might,
Always wore his britches
Two sizes too tight.
Split 'em nigger,
Ride 'em on a rail;
I've got de mon to
Pay yo' bail.
Dat Leadin' Houn'
Dere's a creeper hangin' 'roun',
I'm gwiner git 'im I be boun'.
Den dey put dat feller in de groun'
An' I be listenin' fer dat houn',
Dat leadin' houn'.
All aroun' here,
All aroun' here,
What does I keer?
Listenin' fer dat leadin' houn'.
Steal in home middle o' de night,
Give dem folksies sich a fright.
Say, "Feed me, woman, treat me right,'
But she send fer de sheriff
An' de leadin' houn'.
Outrun Dat Cop
Hi lee, hi lo, happy on de way,
Hi lee, hi lo, outrun dat cop today.
Hi lee, hi lo, watch his shirt-tail fly,
Hi lee, hi lo, 'splain to you by and by.
68 Negro Workaday Songs
Don't You Hear?
Don't you hear dat shakin' noise?
Don't you hear dat creepin' 'roun'?
Don't you hear dat stefly walkin' ?
Dat's dat man I laid down, laid down.
Can't you hear dem bones a-shakin'?
Can't you hear dem dead man's moan?
Can't you see dem dead man's sperrits?
Can't you see dat man ain't gone?
I's a Natural-bo'n Eastman
I's a natural-bo'n eastman,
An' a cracker jack,
I's a natural-bo'n eastman
An' a cracker jack,
On de road again,
On de road again.
I Steal Dat Corn
I steal dat corn
From de white man's barn,
Den I slips aroun',
Tells a yarn,
An' sells it back again.
I steal dem chickens
From de white man's yard,
Den I tells dat man
I's workin' hard,
An' I sells 'em back again.
I steal de melons
From his patch,
It takes a smarter man dan him
Fer ter ketch,
An' I sells 'em back again.
Bad Man Ballads and Jamboree 69
I'm de Rough Stuff
I'm de rough stuff of dark-town alley,
I'm de man dey hates to see.
I'm de rough stuff of dis alley,
But de womens all falls for me.
Lawd, Lawd, how dey hates me!
Lawd, Lawd, how dey swear!
Lawd, Lawd, how dey hates me!
Lawd, Lawd, what-a mo' do I care?
I Ain't Done Nothin'
Went up to 'Lanta,
Who should I meet?
Forty-leben blue coats
Comin' down de street,
Forty-leben blue coats
Comin' down de street.
I ain't done nothin',
What dey follerin' after me?
I ain't done nothin,
Can't dey let me be?
When He Grin
His head was big an' nappy,
An' ashy wus his skin,
But good God-a'mighty, man,
You forget i't when he grin.
His nose wus long an' p'inted,
His eyes wus full o' sin,
But good God-a'mighty, man,
You forget it when he grin.
His foots wus long an' bony,
An' skinny wus his shin,
But good God-a'mighty, man,
You forget it when he grin.
70 Negro Workaday Songs
He'd fight ten,
He could sin, always win,
But good God-a'mighty, man,
You forget it when he grin.
Shot My Pistol in the Heart o' Town j
O Lawd,
Shot my pistol
In the heart o' town.
Lawd, the big chief hollered,
"Doncha blow me down."
O Lawd,
Which a-way
Did the po' gal go?
She lef here runnin',
Is all I know.
O Lawd,
Which a-way
Do the Red River run?
Lawd, it run east and west
Like the risin' sun.
Black gal hollered,
Like to scared my brown to death.
If I hadn't had my pistol
I'd a-run myself.
O Lawd,
Jes' two cards
In the deck I love
Lawd, the Jack o' Diamonds
An' the Ace o' Clubs.
O Lawd,
Stopped here to play
Jes' one mo' game.
Lawd, Jack o' Diamonds
Petered on my han'.
1 For music see Chapter XIV.