1 Gone are the days when my heart was young and gay,
2 Gone are my friends from the cotton fields away,
3 Gone from the earth to a better land I know,
4 I hear their gentle voices calling 'Old Black Joe.'

5 I'm coming, I'm coming, for my head is bending low:
6 I hear those gentle voices calling, 'Old Black Joe.'

7 Why do I weep when my heart should feel no pain
8 Why do I sigh that my friends come not again,
9 Grieving for forms Now departed long a go?
10 I hear their gentle voices calling 'Old Black Joe.'

11 I'm coming, I'm coming, for my head is bending low:
12 I hear those gentle voices calling, 'Old Black Joe.'

13 Where are the hearts once so happy and so free?
14 The children so dear that I held upon my knee,
15 Gone to the shore where my soul has longed to go.
16 I hear their gentle voices calling 'Old Black Joe.'

17 I'm coming, I'm coming, for my head is bending low:
18 I hear those gentle voices calling, 'Old Black Joe.'