Gone are the days When my heart was young and gay. Gone are my friends From the cotton fields away. Gone from this place, To a better land I know. I hear their gentle voices calling: Old Black Joe Chorus: I'm coming, I'm coming For my head is bending low I hear their gentle voices calling Old Black Joe.

Why do I weep When my heart should feel no pain Why do I sigh That my friends come not again Grieving for forms Now departed long ago I hear their gentle voices calling: Old Black Joe. Chorus: 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. Chorus:

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