In dis little ole log cabin
Whar de gray moss hang in sight;
Whar de screech-owl make me trimble
In de middle ob de night;
Dar at ebenin’ you gwine fin’ me,
If you look fo’ me at all,
Wid my Fido settin’ by me,
En my banjo on de wall.
Once, when de long day wus finish,
’Fo’e ter res’ me I done go,
I would set out on de do’ step
Pickin’ sof’ my ole banjo,
Singin’ “Dixie,” “Swanee Riber,”
“Annie Laurie,” en dem all;—
But my banjo am done broken,
En am hangin’ on de wall.
So I set heah dreamin’, dreamin’,
Ob de time dat use ter be
’Fo’e my Dinah went to heaben—
Dinah she wus lovin’ me!
En if she had neber lef’ me
I would neber weep at all,
En I would not miss de music
Ob de banjo on de wall.