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.
(Chorus:)
|: 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.
Chorus
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.
Chorus