Down by the canebrake, close by the mill, Lived a pretty little girl, her name of ���Nessa Field. I knew that she love me, and I knew it was wrong. Now I serenade her and I sing her a song: 
CHORUS: Come, love, come. The boat rides low, Rides high and dry on the Ohio. Come, love, come, and go with me. We���ll go down to Tennessee. 
I never met a pretty gal in all my life But that she was some boatman���s wife. Boatman dance and boatman sing And boatman do most anything. 
CHORUS 
Boatman dance and boatman sing And boatman do most anything. When the boatman go on shore, Spend his cash and he work for more. 
CHORUS 
When you go to the Boatman���s Ball, You dance with my wife or you won���t dance at all. Sky-blue jacket and tarpaulin hat, Look out, boys, for the nine-tailed cat. 
CHORUS 
I���ve come this way and I won���t come no more. Let me by and I���ll go on shore. There I���ll turn my passions loose, And they���ll cram me in the calaboose. 
CHORUS 
file from: www.traditionalmusic.co.uk 
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