Way down upon the Swanee River,
Far, far away,
There's where my heart is turning ever,
There's where the old folks stay.
All the world is sad and dreary,
Ev'ry where I roam,
Oh, darkies how my heart grows weary
Far from the old folks at home.
All up and down the whole creation,
Sadly I roam,
Still longing for the old plantation,
And for the folks at home.
All 'round the little farm I wandered
When I was young,
Than many happy days I squander'd,
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 in my good old home?
Far, far away,
There's where my heart is turning ever,
There's where the old folks stay.
All the world is sad and dreary,
Ev'ry where I roam,
Oh, darkies how my heart grows weary
Far from the old folks at home.
All up and down the whole creation,
Sadly I roam,
Still longing for the old plantation,
And for the folks at home.
All 'round the little farm I wandered
When I was young,
Than many happy days I squander'd,
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 in my good old home?