The Mudcat Café TM
Thread #40682   Message #583640
Posted By: Dicho (Frank Staplin)
01-Nov-01 - 12:14 AM
Thread Name: Lyr Add: Bobby Allen (Afro-American)
Subject: Lyr Add: BOBBY ALLEN (Afro-American)

Remember, 'member de other day
When you in town a-drinkin'
You treated all the ladies 'round
An' slighted Bobby Allen.

He sent his servants to the town
Up to his Bobby's dwellin'
Your master dear lies sick in bed
It will kill his Bobby Allen.

Slowly, slowly she got up
An' went unto his dwellin'
She raised the curtains as she walked in,
Young man, I think you a'really dyin'.

Yes, I am sick, I'm very sick
An' death is on my dwellin'
I never shall see my time again
If I don't get Bobby Allen.

She wheeled around and went back home
Along as she was journeyin'
She looked to de East, and looked to the West
She saw the carpse* a-comin'.

Oh, mother, mother, fix my bed
An' make it long an' narrow
A young man died for me today
An' I must die for him tomorrow.

Little Willie died on Saturday night
An' Bobby died on Sunday
Little Willie died on Saturday night
He were buried on Easter Monday.

An' from her grave there sprung a rose
An' from his grave a brier
They wrapped and tied in a lovers' knot
An' lived an' died together.

Sung by Hule ("Queen") Hines, State Prison, Raiford, Florida. John and Ruby Lomax 1939 Southern States Recording Trip. *carpse = corpse.
I felt this Afro-American version about Bobby and Little Willie should be separated from the threads on the Anglo-American versions (so many).
@ballad @folk song