Way down South in the Cotton Land

Lullaby from the Deep South, 1840s?

Way down South in the Cotton Land, There's a little black boy I know. Who picks the cotton from the fields, As clean and white as snow. Father sits by the fire side Flumpin' on his old banjo. And momma sings a lullaby While the lamp is burnin' low. Way down South in the Cotton Land, Don't you fret nor cry. Way down South in the Cotton Land, Sandman's passing by.

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