Sam Jones had nephews
but had him no son,
so he went right out
and caught himself one.
Man, he was happy
at eighteen years old,
out minding his own—
that’s when he got stole.
Sam Jones shackled Man
and he brought him back
to work in his field
and whitewash his shack.
Man wanted freedom
but he learned real quick
he’d better work hard
or he’d face the whip.
Sam Jones grew in wealth
as Man grew in harm,
he ate with the hogs,
he slept in the barn.
Man wept in relief
when Sammy was told
“Man cannot be bought,
Man cannot be sold.”
Sam Jones said to Man,
“You think that you’re free?
Just give it some time.
I’ll get you. You’ll see.”
Man said, “Mister Jones,
before I will go,
I ought to be paid
just what I am owed.”
Sam Jones ran a hand
through his long white hair.
“I treated you well.
I’d call that quite fair.”
Man wouldn’t hear it.
He spoke as a sage,
“Sir, I worked a job,
and I’m owed a wage.”
Sam Jones shook his head
and smiled ear-to-ear.
“I think you owe me;
I did bring you here.”
Man dropped his shackles
but still felt their weight
as he left the farm
to go meet his fate.
Sam Jones told the town,
“Lookout! Man is bad—
a debased, depraved,
and degenerate lad.”
Man found no quarter,
he couldn’t buy land,
they paid him half-price
as Sam Jones had planned.
Sam Jones, he just grinned,
“What’s this that I see?
You got your freedom,
but couldn’t catch me!”
Man said, “How could I
keep up with the Jones?
You got yourself rich,
but I just got owned.”
Sam Jones feigned surprise,
“Don’t blame it on me!
We’re both the same, Man.
We’re equals. You see?”