Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay, Gone are my friends from the cotton fields away, Gone from the earth to a better land I know, I hear their gentle voices calling 'Old Black Joe.'
I'm coming, I'm coming, for my head is bending low: I hear those gentle voices calling, Old Black Joe.
[Solo] Where are the hearts once so happy and so free? The children so dear that I held upon my knee, Gone to the shore where my soul has longed to go. I hear their gentle voices calling 'Old Black Joe.'
I'm coming, I'm coming, for my head is bending low: I hear those gentle voices calling, 'Old Black Joe.'
I hear those gentle voices calling, Old Black Joe. I hear those gentle voices calling, Old Black Joe.