Ike wus workin’ on de chain gang
Ebry day till set ob sun,
Kaze he bin took up fo’ somethin’
Dat he neber orter done.
En he ketch de quick consumption
Workin’ in de col’ en rain,
En he say if dey des free him
He won’t do so bad agin.
Den his white frien’s write a letter
Dat dey as’ us all ter sign,
Sayin’: “Ike am weak en sickly,
En he mus’ be treated kin’.”
Sayin’: “He cain’t lib much longer,
En we hope you let him come
Back ter dem dat am his people,
So he pass away at home.”

En we des keep waiting’, waitin’,
Till a letter come at las’,
Sayin’ dat de gov’nor glad
He kin grant us what we as’.
When we carry Ike dat message,
Ho don’t heah us what we say,
Kaze de Lawd done come en call him,
En his soul done pass away.

THE END