Oh, Susanna, don't you cry for me. I've come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee. I soon will be in New Orleans, and then I'll look around. And when I find Susanna, I will fall upon the ground. But if I could never find her, then I think I'll surely die. And when I'm dead and buried, Susanna, don't you cry. Oh, Susanna, don't you cry for me. I've come from Alabama with a banjo on my knee. But it ain't that right. Ain't that right!