There is an old man called Mississippi,
That's the old man I don't like to be.
What does he care if the world' d got troubles,
What does he care if the land ain' t free.
Don' t look up, and don' t look down !
You don't just make the white boss frown,
Bend your knees and bow your head,
And pull that rope until you're dead!
Let me go way from the Mississippi,
Let me go way from the white man boss.
Show me that stream call de river Jordan,
Dat de old stream dat I long to cross.
Old man river,
Dat old man river!
He must know something,
But don't say nothing.
He just keeps rolling,
He keeps on rolling along.
He don' t plant tatoes,
He don' t plant cotton,
And dem dat plant'em is soon forgotten,
But old man river,
He just keeps rolling along.
You and me we sweat and strain,
Body all aching and rocked wid pain.
Tote dat barge and lift dat bale,
Get a little drunk and you'll land in jail.
But I keep laughing instead of crying,
I must keep fighting until I'm dying,
But old man river,
He just keeps rolling along |