FU' de peace o' my eachin' heels, set down; br Don' fiddle dat chune no mo'. br Don' you see how dat melody stuhs me up br An' baigs me to tek to de flo'? br You knows I's a Christian, good an' strong; br I wusship f'om June to June; br My pra'ahs dey ah loud an' my hymns ah long: br I baig you don' fiddle dat chune. br I's a crick in my back an' a misery hyeah br Whaih de j'ints's gittin' ol' an' stiff, br But hit seems lak you brings me de bref o' my youf; br W'y, I's suttain I noticed a w'iff. br Don' fiddle dat chune no mo', my chile, br Don' fiddle dat chune no mo'; br I'll git up an' taih up dis groun' fu' a mile, br An' den I'll be chu'ched fu' it, sho'. br Oh, fiddle dat chune some mo', I say, br An' fiddle it loud an' fas': br I's a youngstah ergin in de mi'st o' my sin; br De p'esent's gone back to de pas'. br I'll dance to dat chune, so des fiddle erway; br I knows how de backslidah feels; br So fiddle it on 'twell de break o' de day br Fu' de sake o' my eachin' heels.