Chorus— De massa run! ha! ha! De darky stay! ho! ho! It mus' be now de kingdom comin' And de year of Jubilo! He six foot one way, four foot tudder, An' he weigh tree hundred pound; His coat so big he couldn't pay de tailor, An' it won't go half way round. He drill so much they call him cap'n, An' he get so dreffel tanned I spec he try an' fool dem Yankees For to tink he's contraband. —Cho. De darkies feel so lonesome libbing In de log house on the lawn, Dey move dar tings to massa's parlor, For to keep it while he's gone. Dar's wine and cider in de kitchen, An' de darkies dey'll hab some; I suppose dey'll all be cornfiscated, When the Linkum sojers come.— Cho. De oberseer he make us trouble, An' he dribe us round a spell; We lock him up in de smoke-house cellar, Wid de key trown in de well. De whip is lost, de hancuff broken, But de massa'll hab his pay; He's ole enough, big enough, ought to know better Dan to went an' run away.— Cho.