For true. Fix we a nex' one, Miss Fergie -That man coulda knock back him waters, youknow sah!I remember the day in this said-same barWhen him drink Old Brown and Coxs'n intoThe ground, then stand up straight as a plumb-line
And keel him felt hat on him head andwalkHome cool,cool, cool. Dem was water-bird, brother!Funeral? Me, sah? That bwoy have to learnThat a man have him pride. But bless mi days!Good enough to build the house that him live in
But not good enough to make him coffin!I woulda do it for nutt'n, for nutt'n! The manWas mi friend.
Damn mawga-foot bwoy.Is university turn him fool. I tell you,It burn me, it burn me for true!
Now you think that is right, sah ? Talk the truth. The man was mi friend.I build it, IBuild the house that him live in; but nowThat him dead, that mawga-footbwoy, him son,Come say, him want a nice job for the coffin,
So him give it to Mister Belnavis to make -That big-belly crook who don't know him arseFrom a chisel, but because him is big-shot, becauseHim make big-shot coffin, fi-him coffinmust betterThan mine! Bwoy it hot me, it hot me