Oh, although it’s not my colour
I’m feeling mighty blue
I’ve got a lot of trouble I’ll tell it all to you.
I’m certainly disgusted with life and that’s a fact.
Because me hair is woolly and because my colour’s black.
My girl she had a notion against the coloured race.
She said that if I’d wed her I would have to change my face.
She said that if I’d wed her that she’d regret it soon.
But now I’ve shocked her good enough because I am a coon.
Then it’s coon, coon, coon. I wish my colour would fade.
Coon, coon, coon. I’d like a different shade.
Coon, coon, coon, at morning, night or noon.
I wish I was a white man, instead of a coon, coon, coon.
I got my face enamelled I had my hair made straight.
I dressed up like a white man and I certainly looked great.
I started off to see her, just shortly after dark.
And on my way to meet my babe I had to cross a park.
Just as I was a-thinkin’ I had been fixed up straight.
I had to pass where two doves stood making love at night.
They stood and looked me over. I saw my [shinny?] [soon?]
When both these birds said ‘good enough’ coon, coon coon.
Then it’s coon, coon, coon. I wish my colour would fade.
Coon, coon, coon. I would like a different shade.
Coon, coon, coon at morning, night or noon.
I wish I was a white man instead of a big, black coon.