


                  Indeed                    I knowed it, brother
                  I                    knowed it
                  Dese                    bones gwine to rise again
                  Didn’t                    know exactly what to do
                  Made                    Miss Eve for to be his bride
                  Put                    um in a garden fine and fair
                  Tole                    um to eat whatever was dere
                  Must                    leave de apples dere to grow
                  At                    Miss Eve his eye he wunk
                  Then                    she filled an apron full
                  Smack                    his lips an’ say ‘twas nice
                  Shook                    de world to its very jois’
                  “No,                    Marse Lord; I ‘spec’ it was Eve”
                  Earn                    you’ livin’ by yo’ sweat”
                  Tol’                    um never come dere no more