When I was just a young boy br living in that shabby old shack. br A man said boy, boy, boy br do ya want your freedom back. br br Chorus br br Joy, Joy, Joy Lord I want my freedom back. br I want out of this little shabby old shack. br so give me ma freedoooom back, br give me ma freedom back. br br I dug holes so deep Looooord, br knock me off ma feet. br I work on the railroad track br near broke ma baaaack. br That old massa, well he promise give ma br freedom back. br br I said Joy, Joy, Joy I ain no toy. br Stop playing wit me now, a wanna be free. br a wanna be free Lord, a wanna be free. br br Chorus br br A thousand days gone by, br under the deep gray sky br I’m trudging along, br many dark miles ahead. br That damn old massa, on my backside. br He don give me no freedom br I got no where to hide br No no no no no no feedom br No where to hide br br I’m gonna dropp down and die br I’m gonna dropp down and die br Ohhh Lord! br I’m gonna dropp down and die br br (End of Song) Message to follow: br br Sometimes I picture myself way back, sitting in the barns br with my forefathers. I feel their pain and I sing the songs br that they sung then. Some call them “The Blues, some br call them “Negro Spiritual” I call them songs of Life, br Life the way it was then. The words come easy because I br remember what it was like. Some may wonder how is br that possible, I can’t explain that but I was there, long br ago, I cried, I wailed, I hurt, I suffered with them. While br writing this Spiritual song, I saw the barns and sad faces br and felt their pain. I write of a young boy who had a br dream but that dream many years later ended in death.