Ol’ Ma’s gone, she done faded away

and she’ll work this plantation no mo’.

No mo’ pickin’ cotton, no mo’ sweepin’ flo’s,

No mo’ tryin’ to be Masta’s ho’.

Ol’ Masta he cried when they told him the news,

now he jus’ reminisces all time —

‘bout them there days when younger she played

and she danced in the merriment wine.

Ol’ Josh was who done it, done stabbed her to death

when she talked in her sleep one night —

"O Masta, so good . . . been waitin’ so long

to have you come hold me so tight."

Ol’ Ma never had no chillin’s you see

but we all called her Ma jus’ the same.

‘Cos she treated us all like we wuz her own

and we never once heard her complain.

To honor ol’ Ma we all got up at dawn

that mornin’ they took her away.

And we followed the wagon on down to the field

where Masta had dug her a grave.

Masta wuz sorry that he didn’t know

ol’ Ma wuz in love with him so.

He thanked me so kindly with tears in his eyes

when I told him what made ol’ Josh blow.

And Masta shot Josh in both of his knees

and left him jus’ layin’ all day.

The next day at dawn we went up to the tree

where Masta had Joshua hanged.

Copyright © 2007 Arley Owens, Jr. All Rights Reserved