gone are the days when my heart was young and gay gone are the toils of the cotton fields away gone to the fields of a better land i know i hear those gentle voices calling old black joe i m coming i m coming for my head is bending low i hear those gentle voices calling old black joe i m coming home i m coming home oh oh my head is bending low i hear those gentle voices calling old black joe old black joe old black joe old black joe why do i weep when my heart should feel no pain why do i sigh that my friends come not again grieving for forms now departed long ago i hear their gentle voice calling old black joe where are the hearts once so happy and free the children so dear that i held upon my knee gone to the shore where my soul has long d to go i hear their gentle voice calling old black joe 