Komar, Benjamin G.

Old Man Komar, that Old Man Komar, he don't say nothing, but must know something. He just keeps rolling, he just keeps rolling along. He don't plan taters, he don't plant cotton, and them that plants them is soon forgotten. But Old Man Komar, he just keeps rolling along. You and me, we sweat and strain. Bodies all aching and wracked with pain. Tote that barge, lift that bale, get a little drunk and you land in jail. I gets weary and sick of trying. I'm tired of living and scared of dying. But Old Man Komar, he just keeps rolling along.