T'other eb'ning eb'ryting was still, Oh! babe,
De moon was climbin' down behind de hill, Oh! babe,
T'ought eb'ry body was a sound asleep,
But old man a Johnson was a on his beat, Oh! babe.

I went down into a Nigger crap game,
When de coons were a gambling wid a might and main,
T'ought I'd a be a sport and be dead still,
I gambled my money and I wasn't to blame.

One Nigger's point was a little, a Joe,
Bettin' six bits t'a quarter he could make de four,
He made dat point but he made no more,
Just den Johnson jump'd through de door, Oh!

Mister Johnson turn me loose ,
Got no money but a good excuse ,
Oh! Mister Johnson, I'll be good .
Oh! Mister Johnson turn me loose ,
Don't take me to de calaboose ,
Oh! Mister Johnson, I'll be good .

T'other eb'ning when the sun was down, Oh! babe,
I went down old man Johnson's chicken farm, Oh! babe,
Climb'd in de chicken loft on my knees,
Was a half way through when de chicken sneezed, Oh! babe.

I'll tell you, if you will only keep still,
'Bout mile and a half from Louisville,
I am so nerbous dat I can't keep still,
When I think about it I can feel a big chill.

A big black coon was a lookin' for chickens,
When a great big bulldog got to raisin' the dickens,
De coon clomb higher, de chicken got nigher,
Just den Johnson opened up fire.

I got no chance for to be turned loose ,
Got no chance for a good excuse ,
Oh! Mister Johnson, I'll be good .
And now he's playin' seben eleben ,
Way up yonder in de Nigger heabn ,
Oh! Mister Johnson made him good .