[Copyright secured October 25 1861
Publisher dedosited Dec 20 1861
20882]
"Contraband Now." [25 Oct 1861]
Song and Chorus,
Written and Composed by
Frank Wardlaw.

Baltimore, MD: Miller & Beacham.
[M 1640
  .W]
[Plate no.] 3370
Eng’d at Clayton's.
[Source: civilwardigital.com]

1. Uncle Sambo’s a gwine to be righted,
  Uncle Sambo’s a gwine to be free,
And dey say dat dis darkey’s delighted
  Becos you white folks can’t agree;
O dey say dat dis darkey’s in clober,
  But ’deed I don’t see it nohow:—
Uncle Sambo’s best days are all ober,
  He’s only a Contraband now!

CHORUS [sung after each VERSE]
O dey say dat dis darkey’s in clober,  
  Yes sir!
  Yes sir! Yes sir, ree! Yes sir, ree!
  I don't see it! I don't see it!
But ’deed I don’t see it nohow!
Uncle Sambo’s best days are ober, 
He’s only a Contraband now! 
Uncle Sambo’s best days are all ober,
He’s only a Contraband now! 

2. O dey say dis Fremount proclamation
  Hab kick up de best sort o’ fun,
But much as I lub ’mancipation,
  I rader you two should stay one.
Mighty pleasant to vote wid our betters,
  And pray wid white breddren but yet
I’d rader go back to my fetters
  Dan see dis old Union upset.

3. I’d rader go back to plantation
  And stick to de cotton and cane,
Dan dat Gin’ral Waxhington nation
  Should all hab been built up in vain.
O dey wen de fightin’s all ober,
  Nary slave will be left in de land,
But if dey fight on, by Jehober,
  Dey’ll leave nary freemen on hand.

4. De last time I saw my old Massa
  He’d just bid old Missus good bye,
His hand was right wet, for, I dar say,
  He’d just brushed a tear from his eye:
One foot in his shiny steel stirrup,
  One hand on de mane ob his Black,
He stammered out— “Boys, you must cheer up
  Old Missus, if I don’t git back.”

5. Old Missus, de last time I met her
  Dat sight make me feel berry sore,
She leanin’ agin’ de Palmetter,
  He gallopin on to de war:
She went in and watched by de windo’
  As long as his hoss she could see,
Den turned, wid a strange larf, and kindo’
  Staggered and came to her knee.

6. Mayn’t Massa and Massus drop us here
  Wen somebody settles dis war,
Mayn’t de banjo of dear old Virginier
  Be as sweet to New York as before?
O dey say dat dis darkey’s in clober.
  But ’deed I don’t see it nohow,
Uncle Sambo’s best days are all ober,
  He only a CONTRABAND now.