Hard Times

De mo’ me wuk, de mo’ time hard,
     I don’t know what fe do;
I ben’ me knee an’ pray to Gahd,
     Yet t’ings same as befo’.

De taxes knockin’ at me door,
     I hear de bailiff’s v’ice;
Me wife is sick, can’t get no cure,
     But gnawin’ me like mice.

De picknies hab to go to school
     Widout a bite fe taste;
And I am working like a mule,
While buccra, sittin’ in de cool,
     Hab ’nuff nenyam fe waste.

De clodes is tearin’ off dem back
     When money seems noa mek;
A man can’t eben ketch a mac,
     Care how him ’train him neck.

De peas won’t pop, de corn can’t grow,
     Poor people face look sad;
Dat Gahd would cuss de lan’ I’d know,
     For black naygur too bad.

I won’t gib up, I won’t say die,
     For all de time is hard;
Aldough we wul’ soon en’, I’ll try
My wutless best as time goes by,
     An’ trust on in me Gahd.