Ol' Man River

There's an old man called the Mississippi.

That's the old man that I'd like to be.

What does he care if the world's got

troubles? What does he care if the

land ain't free? Don't

look up and don't look down. You

don't dare make the white boss

frown. Bend your knees and

bow your head, and pull that

rope until you're

dead. Let me go

'way from the Mississippi. Let me go

'way from the white man boss. Show

me that stream called the River

Jordan. That's the old stream

that I longs to

cross.

Old Man River, that

Old Man River, he must

know something, but don't say

nothing. He just keeps

rolling. He keeps on

rolling along.

He don't plant taters.

He don't plant cotton. Them that

plants them is soon

forgotten. But Old

Man River, he just keep

rolling along.

[instrumental interlude] You and me,

we sweat and strain. Body all

aching and racked with pain. Tote

that barge, lift that bale. You

gets a little drunk and you

lands in jail.

I gets weary

and sick of trying.

I'm tired of living and

scared of dying.

But Old Man River,

he just keeps rolling

along.