I was born in Alabama,
My master's name was Meal,
He used to own a yaller gal,
Her name was Lucy Neale
Oh! poor Lucy Neale,
Oh! poor Lucy Neale,
If I had her in my arms,
How happy I would feel
She used to go out wid us,
To pick cotton in de field,
And dar is whar I fell in love,
Wid my pretty Lucy Neale.
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c
Miss Lucy she was handsome,
From de head down to de heel,
And all de niggas fell in love,
Wid my pretty Lucy Neale.
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c.
De nigga's gave a ball,
Miss Lucy danced a reel,
And none dah could compare,
Wid my pretty Lucy Neale,
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c.
I axed her would she have me,
How glad she made me feel,
When she gave to me her heart,
My pretty Lucy Neale, &c
Miss Lucy had a baby,
'Twas limber as an eel,
It was de image of its dad,
And looked like Lucy Neale,
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c
Because he thought I'd steal,
An that's the way he parted
Me, and pretty Lucy Neale
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c
My boat it was a pine log,
Widout eder rudder or keel,
And I floated down de riber,
A crying poor Lucy Neale.
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c.
Miss Lucy she was taken sick,
She eat so much corn meal,
The Doctor he did gib her up,
Alas! poor Lucy Neale.
Oh! poor Lucy Neale, &c.
One day I got a letter,
And jet black was the seal,
And de words dey did tell me,
Ob de death ob Lucy Neale.
And oh! poor Lucy Neale,
And oh! poor Lucy Neale,
When I had her in my arms
How glad it did make me feel
A NIGGER in Alabama lived,
Dey used to call him Joe,
Dis nigger lived to be so old,
His head war white as snow.
Dis nigga he war very rich,
The poor one liked him well,
Dey used to go to de Alabama house,
Some stories for to tell.
An strike de toe an heel, my lass,
An strike de heel and toe,
Miss Philis am a waiting
For your Alabama Joe.
This old nigger built a church,
A minister he hired,
Who staid with them about four years, And quit cause he war tired.
Their minister good salary got,
As all these niggers know,
De money it war paid to him,
By Alabama Joe.
Dis made these niggers all feel bad,
To think he sarved them so,
But the one the shock fell worse upon
Was Alabama Joe.
In a few years after dis,
De good old nigger died,
He left three niggers all he had,
And Miss Phillisy, his bride.
His money he did will away
To Phillisy his spouse,
Which caused great disturbance
At dis old nigger's house.
Miss Phillisy had him buried,
All under an old tree,
And after dey had buried him
De niggers had a spree.
A nigger in Virginia lived,
Who heard of old Joe's death, And strait for Alabama steered, And never stopped for breath He quick made love to Phillisy, Who was a charming fair,
Her eyes were bright as diamonds,
And curly war her hair.
Dis niggar war a fisherman,
A fisherman ob old,
A fishing he did go one night,
And caught a beautiful cold.
Dis nigga lived in great harmony,
And age did make him pine,
For she was only twenty-three,
And he war ninety-nine.
Dis story that I now relate,
As a good old niggar said,
He went one morning to their house,
And found dis couple dead,
Now Miss Phillisy she is dead.
Old Joe he went before,
Dar oder nigger hab gone too,
We shall see them no more.
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