Fu' de peace o' my eachin' heels, set down;
  Don' fiddle dat chune no mo'.
Don' you see how dat melody stuhs me up
  An' baigs me to tek to de flo'?
You knows I 's a Christian, good an' strong;
  I wusship f'om June to June;
My pra'ahs dey ah loud an' my hymns ah long:
  I baig you don' fiddle dat chune.

I 's a crick in my back an' a misery hyeah
  Whaih de j'ints 's gittin' ol' an' stiff,
But hit seems lak you brings me de bref o' my youf;
  W'y, I 's suttain I noticed a w'iff.
Don' fiddle dat chune no mo', my chile,
  Don' fiddle dat chune no mo';
I 'll git up an' taih up dis groun' fu' a mile,
  An' den I 'll be chu'ched fu' it, sho'.

Oh, fiddle dat chune some mo', I say,
  An' fiddle it loud an' fas':
I's a youngstah ergin in de mi'st o' my sin;
  De p'esent 's gone back to de pas'.
I 'll dance to dat chune, so des fiddle erway;
  I knows how de backslidah feels;
So fiddle it on 'twell de break o' de day
  Fu' de sake o' my eachin' heels.

This work was published before January 1, 1925, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago.