Used-Up Joe

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I'm de only one left ob de Colony niggers;
 How things do meander away!
When dey count my yeahs dey break down on de figgers,-
 Fer things will meander away.
I was heah when Columbus discubbered Ohio;
 I'm dyin' wid hunger today.
Lock me up in a pantry day's filled wid mince-pie-
 Oh! how things would meander away.

Brudder Gabriel, blow! I am ready to go;
 I am tired ob dis long delay.
You've de wicked to warn; better look for yer horn,-
 Fer things will meander away.

I's as poor as de turkey dat Job was its owner;
 How things do meander away!
I'm as sick as de whale when he landed up Jonar,-
 Fer things will meander away.
I'm in debt for my day before yesterday's dinner,
 An' can't find de cash fer to pay:
In dat Savin's Band game some one else was de winner,-
 Fer things will meander away.

I'm a gnarly ole tree, wid a hurricane fightin';
 How things do meander away!
All de limbs are torn off, an' de leabes gone akittin',-
 Fer things will meander away.
Send me home for repairs when de hurricane ceases;
 Remember de words dat I say!
Tie me up in a bag, an' don't stop for de pieces,-
 Fer things will meander away.

Had my right eye knocked out by a word dat I hollered;
 How things do meander away!
Called a white man a fool, an' an axerdent follered,-
 Fer things will meander away.
Den a railroad collusion run ober some cattle,
 An' one ob my limbs went astray;
An' anudder I left on de cornfield ob battle,-
 Fer things will meander away.

Nitro-glycerum cans are not safe to unsodder;
 How things do meander away!
An' wid circular saws 'tisn't wise fer to bodder,-
 Fer things will meander away.
Dis ere top-lock was lifted by red Injun debils;
 'Twas den de black wool become gray;
An' my last wooder leg was shot off by de rebels,-
 For things will meander away.

Nicodemus, my son-in-law, long ago started;
 How things do meander away!
An' dey say, from de gum-tree his bones hab departed,-
 Fer things will meander away.
He will nebber come back, let me tell ye-no, nebber!
 To pick up his burden of clay:
Gib a mud-turtle wings an' a free pass forebber,-
 Ob course he'll meander away.

© Henry Clay Work