Lord, here I am, here I am Lord
Just finished doin’ dis white man’s chores
In his fields gettin’ black, but now restin’ in my shack
Puttin’ grease on my hands and sores
Been out since sunup Lord, singin’ to hide my frown
Workin’ harder when white boss comes around
But sittin’ here now, with my aches and pains
But talkin’ to you makes it not in vain
Ain’t got no woman, for she’s been sold
Another farm here bouts she’s livin’, so I’s told
Just wish, oh Lord, to see her face
And her pretty black body, I’d love to embrace
“Lord,” if you is the “Lord” then make things right
And bring this slave some hope with “Your” mornin’ light
I don’t want to go to his fields no mo
I’s real d*mn tired to doin’ this white man’s chores
Dried beans, and lots of fatback
Is all I ever do gets to eat
And I walk til light with thoughts what’s right
With dust up under dese feet
I eats my meals in low candlelight
But I’s never forgets to say grace
So won’t you Lord, if you is the Lord
Dese burdens from me erase
From Thoughts Out of my Mind
1986