(James A. Bland) Carry me back to old Virginy There's where the cotton and the corn and taters grow There's where the birds warble sweet in the springtime There's where this old fellow's heart am longed to go. There's where I labored so hard for old massa Day after day in the fields of yellow corn No place on earth do I love more sincerely Than old Virginy the state where I was born. No place on earth do I love more sincerely Than old Virginy the state where I was born...
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