[WARNING: This song contains antiquated racial stereotypes. It is presented here for historical and educational purposes only.]
(A Coon Prophesy)
A popular song from 1898.
Words and music by Ben Harney.
The sheet music:
Accompaniment by James Pitt-Payne:
Lyrics
- A gambling coon had a fuss with his gal
One warm day in the spring
She had no right for to fuss and fight
For every dollar home he’d bring
But things were getting bad for that jap
Until his luck did change
She meant to have gone for it is true
She was packing up her things
But on that day luck come his way
And he had money to burn
He came home a happy coon
But on his return
He saw her trunk packed in the hall
A man was taking it out
When he saw her follow the trunk out
And loudly he did shout
Chorus
You may go but this ‘er will bring you back
You’ll be sorry you ever gave me the sack
It worked her up and got her flurried
She heard these words as out she hurried
You may go but money will bring you back
- The summer passed and winter came
The ground was covered with snow
When she changed her mind and left her ma
And thought straight back she’d go
So she wrote a note right to this moke
And asked him to take her back
But she’d no excuse and he’s bound to loose
Buying diamonds and a seal skin sack
He read the note that she sent
And then he shook his head
And told the boy there was no answer
And went right straight to bed
And early next morning this gal
Came a creeping up to this black man’s door
But she nearly fell dead when he said
I don’t need you never no more
Chorus
You can go I don’t want you to ever come back
You can stay old gal and that is a fact
As she was leaving she heard him say
You’ve been a good pebble, but been washed away
You may go I don’t want you to ever come back
- A week ago a darky went
To a chicken coop at night
And looking in the place like one of his race
The coon saw a bird in sight
He made a grab and caught that fowl
And started off in the night
The chicken said no and hollored
So the dogs began to bark and bite
And in a sack with the chicken on his back
He started to run for home
With dogs a-howling and a growling
And knowing at his bones
Old farmer Dunn reached for his gun
And out of the house he came
There was a report and a nigger fell
And I heart eh old man exclaim
Chorus
You may run but the bun will bring you back
For it’s loaded to the muzzle with carpet tacks
The coon dropped down very lame and blind
The tacks made him look like a porcupine
He started right but an ambulance brought him back