Look down, (hah) look down,
That long, lonesome road,
where you (hah) and I, I must go.
Stand back, stand back
All you five [and] ten cent men:
Dollar man knocking on, on my door.
Hattie Bell, Hattie Bell,
O she's my own, own true love,
Darlin', what have, have I done?
Voice
The chief music-making instruments for slaves were their own voices. Singing together, alone, or in call-response patterns, slaves improvised, altered, and embellished, creating sounds rich in tone and texture.
