Waking in the early morning
From the sun in the window
The birds “chirp chirp”
Getting dressed as my eyes are
still sleeping
My family whisper and mummer with
the younglings
I chase around my little brother
giggling
To be scolded by my ma
My stomach is growling as I walk
to breakfast late
The sweet smell of peas and
cornmeal
Heading to the fields as early as
I can
Yet, nothing is early enough
So I am yelled at once again
“Way
down south where I was born
Roll
the cotton down
I
worked in the cotton and the corn
Oh,
roll the cotton down”
The sun
as hot as an oven
Sweating salt in the fields
The smell of cotton and tobacco
lingering in the air
I sing with all my might
Listening for the caller’s next
move
Cleaning clothes in the muddy
river
I sew a blanket on the porch
Being yelled at for doing it
wrong time and time again
I try again still frustrated
I have the urge to yell “No
more!”
To be yelled at once more
Tears now stream down my face
“When I
was young and in my prime
Roll
the cotton down
I’d
thought I’d go and join the line
Oh,
roll the cotton down”
Finally am done and now on to
cleaning
This room is messier than my
master left it yesterday
The stench is quite revolting
Clean and clean and I am still
not done
Till the kitchen is cleaned no
dinner is started
Its past dark and I’m still in
the kitchen
Finally done hours of pitch
darkness already gone in rage
Dishes I clean into the middle of
the night
Getting to bed a few hours before
sunrise
Waking again in the early morning
Sun in my window
To start the day all over again
“And
for a sailor caught a shine
Roll
the cotton down
I
joined on the ship of the Black Ball Line
Oh,
roll the cotton down”
Song found on:
Leanze,
Frank. "Jazz-Then and Now." Public Bookshelf, n.d. Web.
An
online book that spoke of work songs and the beginning of jazz music
Points: 804
Reviews: 13
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