Joseph Brown

In a house like all the others
In a tiny Kansas town
In the early 1930s
Lived our neighbor Joseph Brown
A widower forever
He was my grandpa in my mind
I felt at peace while with him
He was warm and he was kind

Just like my parents taught me
I called him Mr. Brown
You call me Old Black Joe, he laughed
Just like the words of that old song

For many years he labored
As the blacksmith in the town
He raised four children with his wife
Til smallpox took her down
His kids moved to the cities
But Mr. Brown he stayed behind
Right here's where my home is
Where my neighbors all are kind

Just like my parents taught me
I called him Mr. Brown
You call me Old Black Joe, he laughed
Just like the words of that old song

I was fighting for my country
On a ship out in the sea
There was a telegram from Kansas
Something special just for me
I tore the letter open
And smiled with heart aglow
Thank you for your service
Sincerely, Old Black Joe
Just like my parents taught me
I called him Mr. Brown
You call me Old Black Joe, he laughed
Just like the words of that old song

As I look back on my childhood
With my grandkids in my lap
I talk with pride of the good old days
Before we take my nap
I fondly speak of Joseph Brown
But now it seems unfair
When they had the monthly barn dance
Mr. Brown was never there

Just like my parents taught me
I called him Mr. Brown
You call me Old Black Joe, he laughed
Just like the words of that old song.
You call me Old Black Joe, he laughed
Just like the words of that old song