(James A. Bland)
Carry me back to old Virginy
There's where the cotton and the corn and taters grow
There's where the birds warble sweet in the springtime
There's where this old fellow's heart am longed to go.
There's where I labored so hard for old massa
Day after day in the fields of yellow corn
No place on earth do I love more sincerely
Than old Virginy the state where I was born.
No place on earth do I love more sincerely
Than old Virginy the state where I was born...
