D A7 Bm D/G D Bm A/A7 Way down upon the Swanee River, far, far away

^DThat's whe^A7re my heart is turning ev^Bmer ^D/G T^Dhat's whe^Bmre the old ^A7folks stay ^D

All up and down the whole creation, sadly I roam Still longing for the old plantation And for the old folks at home A7 D D7 G A/A7 All the world is sad and dreary everywhere I roam

^DOh d^A7arkies, how my heart gro^Bmws wear^Dy ^G F^Dar from the^A7 old folks at home ^D

All 'round the little farm I wandered, when I was young Then many happy days I squandered, many the songs I sung When I was playing with my brother, happy was I Oh, take me to my kind old mother, there let me live and die One little hut among the bushes, one that I love Still sadly to my mem'ry rushes, no matter where I rove When shall I see the bees a humming, all 'round the comb When shall I hear the banjo strumming, down by my good old home

Stephen Foster - Old folks at home