MD - Maryland

Harriet Tubman’s Ballad - Woody Guthrie

I was five years old in Bucktown, Maryland 
When into slavery I was sent
I'll tell you of the beatings and of the fighting 
In my ninety-three years I've spent
I helped a field hand make a run for freedom 
When my fifteenth year was rolling round
And the guard he caught him in a little store 
In a little slavery village town. The boss made a grab to catch the field hand 
I jumped in and blocked the door
The boss he hit me with a two pound scale iron
And I went black down on the floor. On a bundle of rags in our log cabin 
My mother she ministered unto my needs
It was here I swore I'd give my life blood 
Just to turn my people free. 

In '44 I married John Tubman
Well I loved him well till '49
But he would not come and fight beside me 
So I left him there behind
I left Bucktown with my two brothers 
But they got scared and run back home
I followed my northern star of freedom 
I walked the grass and trees alone
I slept in a barn loft and in a haystack 
I slept with my people in slavery shacks
They said I'd die by the boss man's bullets 
But I told them I can't turn back

The sun was shining in the early morning 
When I come to my free state line 
I pinched myself to see if I was dreaming 
I just could not believe my eyes. 
I went back home and I got my parents 
I loaded them into a buckboard hack. 
We crossed six states and other slaves followed 
Up to Canada we made our tracks.
One slave got scared and he tried to turn backwards 
I pulled my pistol in front of his eyes. 
I said get up and walk to your freedom 
Or by this fireball you will die. 

When John Brown hit them at Harper's Ferry 
My men was fighting right by his side. 
When John Brown swung upon his gallows 
It was then I hung my head and cried.
Give the black man guns and give him powder 
To Abe Lincoln this I said: 
You've just crippled that snake of slavery 
We've got to fight to kill him dead. 

When we faced the guns of lightning 
And the thunders broke our sleep. 
After we waded the bloody rainstorms 
It was dead men that we reaped. 
Yes, we faced the zigzag lightning 
But it was worth the price we paid. 
When our thunder had rumbled over 
We'd laid slavery in its grave.

Come now and stand around my deathbed 
And I will sing some spirit songs. 
I'm my way to my greater union 
Now my ninety-three years are gone.