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 is sad and dreary everywhere I roam Oh darkies, 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 brother, happy was I Oh, take me to my kind old mother, there let me live and die
One little hut among the bushes, one that I love Still sadly to my mem'ry rushes, no matter where I rove When shall I see the bees a humming, all 'round the comb When shall I hear the banjo strumming, down by my good old home