Paul Laurence Dunbar - Li`l` GalPaul Laurence Dunbar - Li`l` Gal
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Oh, de weathah it is balmy an` de breeze is sighin` low.
Li`l` gal,
An` de mockin` bird is singin` in de locus` by de do`,
Li`l` gal;
Dere `s a hummin` an` a bummin` in de lan` f`om eas` to wes`,
I `s a-sighin` fu` you, honey, an` I nevah know no res`.
Fu` dey `s lots o` trouble brewin` an` a-stewin` in my breas`,
Li`l` gal.
Whut `s de mattah wid de weathah, whut`s de mattah wid de breeze,
Li`l` gal?
Whut `s de mattah wid de locus` dat `s a-singin` in de trees,
Li`l` gal?
W`y dey knows dey ladies love `em, an` dey knows dey love `em true,
An` dey love `em back, I reckon, des` lak I `s a-lovin` you;
Dat `s de reason dey `s a-weavin` an` a-sighin`, thoo an` thoo,
Li`l` gal.
Don`t you let no da`ky fool you `cause de clo`es he waihs is fine,
Li`l` gal.
Dey `s a hones` hea`t a-beatin` unnerneaf dese rags o` mine,
Li`l` gal.
Cose dey ain` no use in mockin` whut de birds an` weathah do,
But I `s so`y I cain`t `spress it w`en I knows I loves you true,
Dat `s de reason I `s a-sighin` an` a-singin now fu` you,
Li`l` gal.
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