I’m goin’ down to Arkansas to make some ’lasses cane, To make a ’lasses pudding to fatten my Liza Jane 
O git along home, Betsy Oh git along home Betsy, Oh git along, Betsy, git along, I’m bound to leave this place. 
O - down to Arkansas, where ’lasses cane grows tall, Liza Jane is starvin’ to death, won’t eat ’lasses at all. 
I went up on the mountain and give my horn a blow, I thought I heard Lucindy say a yander comes my beau. 
Git along home, home Lucindy, Git along home, my Liza Jane, Git along home, home Lucindy, Git along home my Liza Jane. 
file from: www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
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