Song Of The Slave
Still I'm up in Central parts, I'm toiling like a Nigger; The haystacks on the farm are all Daily growing bigger— The work is overdue but still It's hard upon the figger. The farmer finds it very hard Watching as I'm toiling, Says he: "Ya better hurry up!" The lemonade is boiling; I'll have to drink it all myself To save it all from spoiling. We'll have a noggin when the sun Just sets behind the trees; It's much too hot to carry on At eighty-nine degrees— To make the sun sink soon enough He watches on his knees.
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Bibliographic details
Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, 26 February 1947, Page 5
Word Count
103Song Of The Slave Alexandra Herald and Central Otago Gazette, 26 February 1947, Page 5
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