Cherokee (Autumn in New York) - Tal Farlow

I ain’t got no home, I’m just a-rambling round

I’m just a wandering worker, I roam from town to town

The police make it hard wherever I may go

And I ain’t got no home in this world anymore

My brothers and my sisters are stranded on this road

A hot and dusty road that a million feet done trod;

Rich man took my home and drove me from my door

And I ain’t got no home in this world anymore

Was farming on the share, and always I was poor

My crops I laid into the banker’s store;

My wife took down and died upon the cabin floor

And I ain’t got no home in this world anymore

Now as I look round, it’s mighty plain to see

The world is such a great and a funny place to be;

The gambling man is rich and the working man is poor

And I ain’t got no home in this world anymore