Here, where it tuck in dungarees, in dungarees Drop upward of a foot from his slow lip, from his slow lip Hang in thick air, then drop another yard, another yard It rain for almost forty day It trickle through his roof, through his roof Nights and days Nights and days Work this fold of soil, By God Work this fold of soil, By God From inner still he hear it, nights, it, nights The floor of cabin hardly worth the worry, the worry Against the bulk of a tree he breathe, he breathe Washtub of air gray in his ribs, there In the paper bags from where his balsam rise From where he cough it gone, from where he cough it gone Nights and days Nights and days Work this fold of soil, By God Work this fold of soil, By God Nights and days Nights and days Work this fold of soil, By God Work this fold of soil, By God