Old Black

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.'

 I'm coming, I'm coming, for my head is bending low:
I hear those gentle voices calling, Old Black Joe.

[Solo] 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.'

I'm coming, I'm coming, for my head is bending low:
I hear those gentle voices calling, 'Old Black Joe.' 

I hear those gentle voices calling, Old Black Joe.
I hear those gentle voices calling, Old Black Joe.