JINGLES & CROONS
SENCE YOU WENT AWAY
Seems lak to me de stars don’t
shine so bright,
Seems lak to me de sun done
loss his light,
Seems lak to me der’s
nothin’ goin’ right,
Sence
you went away.
Seems lak to me de sky ain’t
half so blue,
Seems lak to me dat ev’ything
wants you,
Seems lak to me I don’t
know what to do,
Sence
you went away.
Seems lak to me dat ev’ything
is wrong,
Seems lak to me de day’s
jes twice as long,
Seems lak to me de bird’s
forgot his song,
Sence
you went away.
Seems lak to me I jes can’t
he’p but sigh,
Seems lak to me ma th’oat
keeps gittin’ dry,
Seems lak to me a tear stays
in ma eye,
Sence
you went away.
MA LADY’S LIPS AM LIKE DE HONEY
(Negro Love Song)
Breeze a-sighin’ and
a-blowin’,
Southern summer night.
Stars a-gleamin’ and
a-glowin’,
Moon jes shinin’ right.
Strollin’, like all
lovers do,
Down de lane wid Lindy Lou;
Honey on her lips to waste;
’Speck I’m gwine
to steal a taste.
Oh, ma lady’s
lips am like de honey,
Ma lady’s
lips am like de rose;
An’ I’m
jes like de little bee a-buzzin’
‘Round de
flower wha’ de nectah grows.
Ma lady’s
lips dey smile so temptin’,
Ma lady’s
teeth so white dey shine,
Oh, ma lady’s
lips so tantalizin’,
Ma lady’s
lips so close to mine.
Bird a-whistlin’ and
a-swayin’
In de live-oak tree;
Seems to me he keeps a-sayin’,
“Kiss dat gal fo’
me.”
Look heah, Mister Mockin’
Bird,
Gwine to take you at yo’
word;
If I meets ma Waterloo,
Gwine to blame it all on you.
Oh, ma lady’s
lips am like de honey,
Ma lady’s
lips am like de rose;
An’ I’m
jes like de little bee a-buzzin’
‘Round de
flower wha’ de nectah grows.
Ma lady’s
lips dey smile so temptin’,
Ma lady’s
teeth so white dey shine,
Oh, ma lady’s
lips so tantalizin’,
Ma lady’s
lips so close to mine.
Honey in de rose, I spose,
is
Put der fo’ de bee;
Honey on her lips, I knows,
is
Put der jes fo’ me.
Seen a sparkle in her eye,
Heard her heave a little sigh;
Felt her kinder squeeze ma
han’,
‘Nuff to make me understan’.
TUNK
(A Lecture on Modern Education)
Look heah, Tunk!—Now,
ain’t dis awful! T’ought I sont you
off to school.
Don’t you know dat you
is growin’ up to be a reg’lah fool?
Whah’s dem books dat
I’s done bought you? Look heah, boy, you
tell me quick,
Whah’s dat Webster blue-back
spellah an’ dat bran’ new ’rifmatic?