Ricollect ol’ One-Armed Joe? Lost it grindin’ cane. Same blame feller‘ t used to go Round with Lizy Jane
Grindin’ sorghum ever fall. Lizy Jane wuz Joe's ol’ mare; Never showed her at a fair, But blamed‘ f she could n't beat all
Ringsters to an ol’ cane sweep That ever stepped a mile. Never fat, Ring-bone an’ bob-tail an’ all that, But law! she made the cane-mill weep!
An’ us chillern, we'd allus go Over where they's grindin’ cane An’ git to ride ol’ Lizy Jane, An’ hear the jokes of One-Armed Joe;
An’ maybe git the sorghum skimmin's, Thwuzzent allus so many wimmins Bossin’ round, cause One-Armed Joe, He loved us chillern bettern them.
( Bet he wears a diadem In the world where preachers go ). Joe had grit and feelin's, too, An’ they wuzzent nothin’ he could n't do,
‘ Cept to do another harm: Ketch a possum, kill a bear, Cuss an’ dance, or lead in prayer; Jump a rope, or skin a cat,
Make a speech or guess a riddle, Sing a song, or play the fiddle — No, Joe could n't quite do that, Cause One-Armed Joe had lost an arm,
But that's all he could n't do. One night dogs treed a coon Up a leanin’ poplar tree; Joe could by the glimmerin’ moon
See the leanin’ poplar leant: Jerked his coat and up he went; Ketched the possum, let him go, Slipped his holts and hollered, “Oh!”
An’ down into eternity Limp and warm, fell poor old Joe! Do n't remember One-Armed Joe? Feller I'll bet the angels know!
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