WHEN we wuz kids together, an’ we didn’t have a care,
In the lazy days of summer, when our feet wuz allus bare,
When a hat warn’t necessary, an’ a necktie in the way,
An’ there warn’t a blessed thing t’ do but scamper off an’ play;
Then th’ sun meant somethin’ to us, an’ the blue skies overhead
Kinder stooped down in th’ meadows where we children wuz, an’ said:
‘Trout are bitin’ in th’ mill stream, hurry up an’ git yer pole,
Now’s th’ time you should be hikin’ ‘t’ yer fav’rit fishin’ hole.’
When we wuz kids together, an’ there warn’t a thing t’ fret,
‘ Cept comin’ home t’ mother with our hair suspicious wet,
Then th’ sunbeams an’ th’ song birds used t’ come t’ us an’ say: ‘
They are swimmin’ in th’ river, better git there right away,
As we passed ’em we could hear ’em laughin’, splashin’ down below.’
Then we hurried t’ th’ river, jus’ as fast as we could go,
For there warn’t a thing t’ keep us, like there is now we are men,
An’ th’ sunbeams an’ th’ song birds an’ the skies meant somethin’ then.
Now th’ same sunbeams come callin’, an’ th’ same song birds come near,
And the same blue skies bend o’er me and their messages I hear;
Every dancing sunbeam tells me that out yonder in the stream
Now the pickerel are biting, but I only sit and dream;
For I’ve journeyed past my boyhood, I ‘m a slave forevermore,
And I must not heed their whispers as I used to do of yore;
There are bills to meet and duties that I must not, dare not shirk,
Mr. Sunbeam, quit yer coaxin’, it’s no use, I’ve got t’ work.
