Lody, Lody, chile am yo heard de nues,
Ole Ruby Gee go dem late stile shoes (no!)
Yo noes dem kin wid de heel so high,
An all de men’s jist looks when she goes by,
Course she ain’t as swell as she thinks she am, ef all ports am true.
She oder member, dat I noder, when she worned a boot an a shoe.
Mursey me, I kin seed her now in church a gazen aroun
Tryen to make eber body seer, so de nues, kin spread de town.
But um goner taut alls in de quar jist how to act renoun
An when Ole Ruby Gee comes in church we kin gider one pison frown.
Oh! but I loves dat uman jist like I loves a snake,
An I ain’t fogot how tonny she acted don at Ras Johnson’s wake.
Eber time dey passed de coffee she’d tuck it an kinder linger,
An put on de mostest airs, posen her little finger.
Dar she sit an sip, an saped,
An droped de hol cup in her lap.
Mursey me, I laughed, tell my sides almos buss,
Den we had one awful fuss,
But bleave me, chile, I helt my groun,
Ef things did look powful dark aroun.
An ef it hadn’t ben fo waken uv de dead
Dah ben one awful pullen uv de heads.
Yo nows fo a minit I acted refine,
But after dat she got a piece uv my mine.
Den eber body look all eck mased,
Sam Thomptson whispered to drunken Hays,
What yo spose dey am fusen about.
Well sur we broke up dat wake, widout a dout,
Den all along de streets on our wah home ’twas a site befo de king,
We was a gibberen an a gabberen, an bof un us sushed
When dat troll-bell ring.
Den we was quiet where de siety folks lived
An we hardly drewed our breff,
But when we’s out uv dat part uv toun I nocked her rite an lef.