York’s slave wife
Folks round here wanna call me Auntie,
York’s ol’ wife, or Massa So an So’s niggah wench
Like I ain’t got a name a my own.
Dem don’t know how hard it be t’put aside
a lil’ piece a myself dat nobody can’t neva touch
but me, a piece big enuf t’wrestle the long hard days
an keep itself warm at night, without a man ’round.
Dem don’t know what it like to stand in the dark
night afta night wrapped in dat buffalo robe he sent
look up at the stars an wonda which ones
is lookin down on him an believe if something bad
happen to him out there dat I would feel it too
When he come home, I don’t need him to say he love me
I don’t need him to bring me gifts, I just wants him
to hold me close, make like he glad to see me
bend down t’my ear an whisper my name.