I’s feelin’ kin’ o’ lonesome in my little
room to-night,
An’ my min’s done los’ de minutes an’
de miles,
W’ile it teks me back a-flyin’to de
country of delight,
Whaih de Chesapeake goes grumblin’
er wid smiles.
Oh, de ol’ plantation ‘s callin’ to me,
Come, come back,
Hyeah ‘s de place fu’ you to labouh an’
to res’,
Fu’ my sandy roads is gleamin’ w’ile
de city ways is black;
Come back, honey, case yo’ country
home is bes’.

I know de moon is shinin’ down erpon
de Eastern sho’,
An’ de bay ‘s a-sayin’ “Howdy” to de
lan';
An' de folks is all a-settin' out erroun' de
cabin do',
Wid dey feet a-restin’ in de silvah
san’;
An’ de ol’ plantation ‘s callin’ to me,
Come, oh, come,
F’om de life dat ‘s des’ a-whaihin’ you
erway,
F’om de trouble an’ de bustle, an’ de
agernizin’ hum
Dat de city keeps ergoin’ all de day.

I’s tired of de city, tek me back to Sandy
Side,
Whaih de po’est ones kin live an’ play
an’ eat;
Whaih we draws a simple livin’ f’om de
fo’est an’ de tide,
An’ de days ah faih, an’ evah night is
sweet.

Fu’ de ol’ plantaion ‘s callin’ to me,
Come, oh, come.
An’ de Chesapeake ‘s a-sayin’ “Dat ‘s
de t’ing,”
W’ile my little cabin beckons, dough
his mouf is closed an’ dumb,
I ‘s a-comin’, an’ my hea’t begins to sing.

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