Classic Poem

Talk about de lates', de lates' of this song,
Dese devilish boll weevils, dey gonna rob you of a home—
Dey lookin' for a home, dey lookin' for a home.

The first time I seed him, he was settin' on de square,
The nex' time I seed him, he was spreadin' ev'ywhere—
He was lookin' for a home, he was lookin' for a home.

Farmer taken the boll weevil, put him in de san',
Boll weevil said to de farmer, “Dis is treatin' me like a man—
I have a home, I have a home.”

Farmer taken the boll weevil, put him in de ice,
Boll weevil said to de farmer, “This is treatin' me mighty nice—
I'll have a home, I'll have a home.”

The farmer an' his ol' lady went out 'cross de fiel'.
The farmer said to de ol' lady: “I found a lotta meat an' meal—
I'll have a home …”

Ol' lady said to de ol' man: “I'm tryin' my level bes',
To keep dese devilish boll weevils outa my ol' cotton dress—
It's full of holes …”

Farmer said to de ol' lady: “What do you think of that?
I got some devilish boll weevils in my ol' Stetson hat—
It's full of holes …”

Farmer tol' de merchant, “I didn't make but one bale,
Before I let you have that one, I'll suffer an' die in jail—
I'll have a home, I'll have a home,
I'll have a home, I'll have a home.”