Old Folks at Home

Folk Songs Stephen Foster Structure: aab

Part A Part B
Way down upon the Suwannee River, Far, far away,
There’s where my heart is turning ever, There’s where the old folks stay.
All up and down the whole creation, Sadly I roam,
Still longing for my childhood station, And for the old folks at home.

All the world is sad and dreary Everywhere I roam.
O dear ones, how my heart grows weary, Far from the old folks at home.

All ‘round the little farm I wander’d, When I was young;
Then many happy days I squander’d, Many the songs I sung.
When I was playing with my brother, Happy was I.
Oh, take me to my kind old mother, There let me live and die.


One little hut among the bushes, One that I love.
Still sadly to my memory rushes, No matter where I rove.
When will I see the bees a humming, All ‘round the comb?
When shall I hear the banjo strumming, Down in my good old home.