Mamma says, she don't want me, because I'm getting old,
fears that I might freeze to death the weather is so cold.
If I live tonight I think I will try,
when the moon goes down tonight I'm a gonna say goodbye.
I'm goin from the cotton fields, I'm goin from the cane,
I'm goin from that little log hut that stands down in the lane.
Now I'm old and feeble and I cannot see my way,
Mamma says, I'm old and gray and only in the way.
I'm leaving the little log hut, the place I love to dwell.
when the stars shine bright tonight I'm a gonna bid farewell.
I'm goin from the cotton fields, I'm goin from the cane,
I'm goin from that little log hut that stands down in the lane.
I'm goin from the cotton fields, I'm goin from the cane,
I'm goin from that little log hut that stands down in the lane.