When I was a child in S.E.London my mother, the most inoffensive lady you could wish meet, taught us this version of "Old Ned" and I know there was not an iota prejudice in her veins. To us children it was just one of the many songs our family sang.

"There was an old nigger and his name was Uncle Ned.
He`s gone dead long ago.
He had no hair on the top of his head
In the place where the hair ought to grow.

He had no hair on the top of his head
He had no eyes for to see
He had no teeth for to eat the oat cake
So`s obliged to let the oat cake be.

CH:- So put away the shovel and the ee-i-oh
    Put away the fiddle and the bow.
    There`s no more work for poor Old Ned
    `Cos he`s gone where the good niggers go-i-oh
    He`s gone where the good niggers go.