Jim Crack Corn; or, The Blue Tail Fly

When I was young a us’d to wait
On Massa and hand him de plate;
Pass down the bottle when he git dry,
And bresh away de blue tail fly.

Den arter dinner massa sleep,
He bid dis niggar vigil keep;
An’ when he gwine to shut his eye,
He tell me watch de blue tail fly.

An’ when he ride in de arternoon,
I foiler wid a hickory broom;
De poney being berry shy,
When bitten by de blue tail fly.

One day he rode aroun’ de farm,
De flies so numerous dey did swarm;
One chance to bite ‘im on the thigh,
De debble take dat blu tail fly.

De poney run, he jump an’ pitch,
An’ tumble massa in de ditch;
He died, an’ de jury wonder’d why
De verdic was de blue tail fly.

Dey laid ‘im under a ‘simmon tree,
His epitaph am dar to see:
‘Beneath did stone I’m forced to lie,
All by means ob de blue tail fly.’

Ole massa gone, now let ‘im rest,
Dey say all tings am for the best;
I nebber forget till de day I die,
Ole massa an’ dat blue tail fly.

Jim crack corn I don’t care,
Jim crack corn I don’t care,
Jim crack corn I don’t care,
Old Massa gone away.

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