I'S a-gittin' weary of de way dat
people do,
De folks dat's got dey 'ligion in dey
fiah-place an' flue;
Dey's allus somep'n' comin' so de
spit'll have to tu'n,
An' hit tain't no p'oposition fu' to
mek de hickory bu'n.
Ef de sweet pertater fails us an' de
go'geous yallah yam,
We kin tek a bit o' comfo't f'om
ouah sto' o' summah jam.
W'en de snow hit git to flyin', dat's
de Mastah's own desiah,
De Lawd'll run de wintah an' yo'
mammy'll run de fiah.
I ain' skeered because de win' hit
staht to raih an' blow,
I ain't bothahed w'en he come er
rattlin' at de do',
Let him taih hisse'f an' shout, let
him blow an' bawl,
Dat's de time de branches shek an'
bresh-wood 'mence to fall.
W'en de st'om's er-railin' an' de
shettahs blowin' 'bout,
Dat de time de fiah-place crack hits
welcome out.
Tain' my livin' business fu' to trouble
ner enquiah,
De Lawd'll min' de wintah an' my
mammy'll min' de fiah.

Ash-cake allus gits ez brown w'en
February's hyeah
Ez it does in bakin' any othah time
o' yeah.
De bacon smell ez callin'-like, de
kittle rock an' sing,
De same way in de wintah dat dey
do it in de spring;
Dey ain't no use in mopin' 'round
an' lookin' mad an' glum
Erbout de wintah season, fu' hit's
des plumb boun' to come;
An' ef it comes to runnin' t'ings I's
willin' to retiah,
De Lawd'll min' de wintah an' my
mammy'll min' de fiah.

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