Take This Hammer
Lead Belly| Prison Worksongs. | |
| TAKE THIS HAMMER Ah you can take this hammer, carry it to the captain Ah you can take this hammer, carry it to the captain Ah you can take this hammer, carry it to the captain Tell him I'm gone, boys Tell him I'm gone If he ask you, was I running If he ask you, was I running If he ask you, was I running Tell him I'm flyin', boys Tell him I'm flyin' I don't want these your cold iron shackles I don't want these your cold iron shackles I don't want these your cold iron shackles Around my leg, boys Around my leg If he ask you, was I laughing If he ask you, was I laughing If he ask you, was I laughing Tell him I'm cryin', boys Tell him I'm cryin' I don't want your corn bread and molasses I don't want your corn bread and molasses I don't want your corn bread and molasses It's my pride, boys It's my pride Ah you can take this hammer, carry it to the captain Ah you can take this hammer, carry it to the captain Ah you can take this hammer, carry it to the captain Tell him I'm gone, boys Tell him I'm gone | Take This Hammer This old hammer, most too heavy Light weight man, Lawdy, light weight man. Take this hammer, take it to the sergeant; Tell him I'm, gone, Lawdy, tell him I'm gone. If he asks you what got the matter, Had too long, Lawdy, had too long. I'm gonna roll on few days longer, I'm gonna roll on few days longer, ( I'm goin' home, Lawdy, I'm goin' home. I'm goin' home. Oh Berta, Berta gal, oh Berta, Berta gal, Early in the mornin' 'bout the break of day, Felt for my pillow where you used to lay, Felt my pillow where you used to lay. Oh Roxie, Roxie gal, Rock, me, in a rocking chair, If the chair turn over I don't bit mo' care. Bit mo' care, babe, bit mo' care. Alberta, let yo' bang grow long Alberta, let yo' bang grow long If you cry 'bout a nickel Alberta, yo'll die 'bout a dime. All I want is my regular rights, Three hard meals and my right at night. Right at night, baby, three hard meals And my rights at night. Oh Rosie, Alabama Rosie, oh Rosie, Alabama Rosie, Rosie, Rosie, don't you hear my name, Same old Rosie, down in Texas town. Texas, Texas, Texas town, Oh Berta, hello gal, Berta, Berta, If you was mine, baby, Wouldn't do nothin' but the scotch and iron Scotch and iron, wouldn't do nothin' but Few days time. |
Prison Worksong
Smithsonian Institution
https://folkways-media.si.edu › docs › ARH00448