Ask my Lord for mercy,
Good Lord, gimme religion,
Good Lord, gimme me a heart to b'lieve,
Dis is de buryin' groun'.
Amen, Hallelujah. Dis is de buryin' groun'.
Tell your mother,
Tell your father,
Dis is de buryin' groun',
Tell all your neighbors,
Tell all your neighbors chillun,
Dis is de buryin' groun'.
Uncle Fil says, "Niggers jes' makes dey own verses, jes' naturally comes
to us, and we make our own rhyme as we go."
One of the humorous songs, a favorite of his, goes:
You, by word, now all we go,
In fact we spoke both high and low,
In the house and out of doors,
Ebening in the baby's nose.
When I was young an' in my prime,
I'se a countin' courtin' them gals,
Most all de time.
Now I'm old and you will see,
I'm not as young as I used to be.
Now when the elephant moves aroun'
The music begins to play,
Oh, the boys aroun' dat monkey's cage
I'd better keep away.
Rock the cradle John,
Rock the cradle John,
Many a man is rockin' another man's son
When he thinks he's rockin' his own.