In the Heart of June
In the heart of June, love,
You and I together,
On from dawn till noon, love,
Laughing with the weather;
Blending both our souls, love,
In the selfsame tune,
Drinking all life holds, love,
In the heart of June.
In the heart of June, love,
With its golden weather,
Underneath the moon, love,
You and I together.
Ah! how sweet to seem, love,
Drugged and half aswoon
With this luscious dream, love,
In the heart of June.
It’s mighty good to git back to the old town, shore,
Considerin’ I’ve be’n away twenty year and more.
Sence I moved then to Kansas, of course I see a change,
A-comin’ back, and notice things that’s new to me and strange;
Especially at evening when yer new band-fellers meet,
In fancy uniforms and all, and play out on the street—
... What’s come of old Bill Lindsey and the Saxhorn fellers—say?
I want to hear the old band play.
What’s come of Eastman, and Nat Snow? And where’s War Barnett at?
And Nate and Bony Meek; Bill Hart; Tom Richa’son and that-
Air brother of him played the drum as twic’t as big as Jim;
And old Hi Kerns, the carpenter—say, what’s become o’ him?
I make no doubt yer new band now’s a competenter band,
And plays their music more by note than what they play by hand,
And stylisher and grander tunes; but somehow—anyway,
I want to hear the old band play.
Sich tunes as “John Brown’s Body” and “Sweet Alice,” don’t you know;
And “The Camels is A-comin’,” and “John Anderson, my Jo”;
And a dozent others of ’em—“Number Nine” and “Number ‘Leven”
Was favo-rites that fairly made a feller dream o’ Heaven.
And when the boys ‘u’d saranade, I’ve laid so still in bed
I’ve even heerd the locus’-blossoms droppin’ on the shed
When “Lilly Dale,” er “Hazel Dell,” had sobbed and died away—
... I want to hear the old band play.
Yer new band ma’by beats it, but the old band’s what I said—
It allus ‘peared to kind o’ chord with somepin’ in my head;
And, whilse I’m no musicianer, when my blame’ eyes is jes’
Nigh drownded out, and Mem’ry squares her jaws and sort o’ says
She won’t ner never will fergit, I want to jes’ turn in
And take and light right out o’ here and git back West ag’in
And stay there, when I git there, where I never haf to say
I want to hear the old band play.