Old Folks At Home

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Way down u-pon the Swa-nee Riv-er, 
 
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Far, far a-way, 
 
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There's where my heart is turn-ing ev-er, 
 
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There's where the old folks stay. 
 
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All up and down the whole cre-a-tion, 
 
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Sad-ly I roam, 
 
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Still long-ing for the old plan-ta-tion, 
 
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And for the old folks at home. 
 
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All the world is sad and drear-y, 
 
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Ev-'ry where I roam; 
 
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Oh, broth-er how my heart grows wear-y 
 
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Far from the old folks at home.

Добавил: Blacky, 2003.11.26

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