The Little Old Log Cabin

When a man gits on his uppers in a hard-pan sort of town,     An' he ain't got nothin' comin', an' he can't afford ter eat,     An' he's in a fix fer lodgin', an' he wanders up an' down,     An' you'd fancy he'd been boozin', he's so locoed 'bout the feet;     When he's feelin' sneakin' sorry, an' his belt is hangin' slack,     An' his face is peaked an' grey-like, an' his heart gits down an' whines,     Then he's apt ter git a-thinkin' an' a-wishin' he was back     In the little ol' log cabin in the shadder of the pines.     When he's on the blazin' desert, an' his canteen's sprung a leak,     An' he's all alone an' crazy, an' he's crawlin' like a snail,     An' his tongue's so black an' swollen that it hurts him fer to speak,     An' he gouges down fer water, an' the raven's on his trail;     When he's done with care and cursin', an' he feels more like to cry,     An' he sees ol' Death a-grinnin', an' he thinks upon his crimes,     Then he's like ter hev' a vision, as he settles down ter die,     Of the little ol' log cabin an' the roses an' the vines.     Oh, the little ol' log cabin, it's a solemn shinin' mark     When a feller gits ter sinnin', an' a-goin' ter the wall,     An' folks don't understand him, an' he's gropin' in the dark,     An' he's sick of bein' cursed at, an' he's longin' fer his call:     When the sun of life's a-sinkin' you can see it 'way above,     On the hill from out the shadder in a glory 'gin the sky,     An' your mother's voice is callin', an' her arms are stretched in love,     An' somehow you're glad you're goin', an' you ain't a-scared to die;     When you'll be like a kid again, an' nestle to her breast,     An' never leave its shelter, an' forget, an' love, an' rest.