“Easyville”

I’ve travelled round the world a bit, an’ I am goin’ still;

I’m tryin’ hard to find a place that some call “Easyville”.

They tell me folks don’t hev to work, an’ care is never found,

Thet all they do in “Easyville” is just to loaf around.

They hev enough to eat an’ wear, an’ sleep jest all they please

An’ pick the choicest fruits of life frum off the hangin’ trees;

Now do yew wonder I hev tramped these years o’er dale an’ hill

To find the everlastin’ joy an’ rest uv “Easyville”?

I think uv it all through the day an’ dream uv it at night,

I’m up an’ after it when comes the first faint streak o’ light;

I work an’ tramp an’ sweat an’ toil without no stop, an’ still

I never reach the height where I kin look on “Easyville”.

I ask my brother frum the North, “how looks it over there,

Hast ever looked on ‘Easyville’, hast seen it anywhere?”

He shakes his head; my brothers frum the East and West the same,

An’ yet they cast a yearnin’ look when I pronounce the name.

O, “Easyville”, so I am told lays jest beyond the chain

Of mountains called “Ambition, Push an’ Toil an’ Stress an’ Strain”,

An’ I hev looked these many years, an’ I am lookin’ still,

An’ mebbie when I git to God He’ll show me “Easyville”.

Sept. 29, ‘07