Sweet Sunny South
Take me home to the place where I first saw the light,
To the sweet, sunny south take me home,
Where the mockingbird sung me to rest every night,
Ah! Why was I tempted to roam!
Take me home to the place where my little ones sleep,
Poor massa lies buried close by.
O’er the graves of the loved ones I long to weep,
Among them to rest when I die.
I think with regret of the dear ones I left,
Of the warm hearts that sheltered me there.
Of the wife and dear ones of whom I’m bereft.
And I sigh for the old place at home.
Take me home to the place where the orange trees grow,
To my cot in the evergreen shade.
Where the flowers on the river’s green margin may blow.
They’re sweet on the banks where we played.
The path to our cottage they say has grown green,
And the place is quite lonely around.
And I know that the smiles and the forms I have seen,
Now lie deep in the dark, mossy ground.
Take me home! let me see what is left that I know.
Can it be that the old home is gone!
The dear friends of my childhood indeed must be few,
And I must lament all alone!
But yet I’ll return to the place of my birth,
Where my children have played at the door.
Where they pulled white blossoms that garnished the earth,
They will echo my footsteps no more.
Instruction on how to play this song can be found in Wayne Erbsen’s book: Clawhammer Banjo for the Complete Ignoramus