Gone are the days
When my heart was young and gay
Gone are my friends
From the cotton fields away
Gone from the earth
To a better land I know
I hear their gentle voices
Calling "Old Black Joe"
I'm coming, I'm coming
For my head is bending low
I hear those gentle voices
Calling "Old Black Joe"
Why do I weep
When my heart should feel no pain?
Why do I sigh
That my friends come not again?
Grieving for forms
Now departed long ago
I hear their gentle voices
Calling "Old Black Joe"
I'm coming, I'm coming
For my head is bending low
I hear those gentle voices
Calling "Old Black Joe"
Where are the hearts
Once so happy and so free?
The children so dear
That I held upon my knee?
Gone to the shore
Where my soul has longed to go
I hear their gentle voices
Calling "Old Black Joe"
I'm coming, I'm coming
For my head is bending low
I hear those gentle voices
Calling "Old Black Joe"