STAY IN YOUR OWN BACKYARD
(Words, Karl Kennett. Music, Lyn Udall)
M. Witmark & Sons, ©1899.

1. Lilac trees a-blooming in the corner by the gate,
Mammy in the little cabin door.
Curly headed pickaninny comin' home so late,
Cryin' 'cause his little heart is sore;
All the children playing 'round have skin so white and fair,
None of them with him will ever play,
So Mammy in her lap takes the little weeping chap,
And says, in her kind old way:

CHORUS:
"Now honey, yo' stay in yo' own back yard,
Doan' min' what dem white chiles do;
What show yo' suppose dey's a gwine to gib
A black little coon like yo'?
So stay on dis side of de high boahd fence,
An' honey, doan' cry so hard,
Go out an' a-play, jes' as much as yo' please,
But stay in yo' own back yard."

2. Ev'ry day the children as they passed old mammy's place,
Romping home from school at night or noon,
Peering through the fence would see this eager little face,
Such a wistful, lonesome little coon;
'Till one day the little face was gone forever more,
God had called this dusky little elf,
And Mammy in the door sat and rocked as oft before,
And crooned to her old black self:
CHORUS