Old Folks at Home

Way down upon the Swanee River,
Far, far away.
That's where my heart is turning ever.
That's where the old folks stay.
All up and down the whole creation,
Sadly I roam,
Still longing for the old plantation,
And for the old folks at home.

All the world is sad and dreary,
Everywhere I roam,
Oh! Lordy, how my heart grows weary,
Far from the old folks at home.

All 'round the little farm I wandered
When I was young,
Then many happy days I squandered,
Many a song 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.

All the world is sad and dreary,
Everywhere I roam,
Oh! Lordy, how my heart grows weary,
Far from the old folks at home.

One little hut among the bushes,
One that I love,
Still sadly to my mem'ry rushes,
No matter where I rove.
When will I see the bees a-humming'
All around the comb?
When will I hear the banjo strummin'
Down in my good old home?

All the world is sad and dreary,
Everywhere I roam,
Oh, Lordy, how my heart grows weary,
Far from the old folks at home.