Oh, the sun shines bright in the old Kentucky home,|
'Tis summer, the darkies are gay.
The corn top's ripe and the meadows in the bloom,
While the birds make music all the day.
The young folks roll on the little cabin floor,
All merry, all happy and bright:
By'n by the Hard Times come a knocking at the door.
Then my old Kentucky home, goodnight!
They hunt no more for the possum and the coon,
The head must bow and the back will have to bend,
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