Music by Harry Rosenthal
Lyric by Alex Sullivan and Jimmy Flynn
Published 1921 by Leo. Feist, Inc.
Mam-my is feel-ing sad to-day,
Her child is called Black Rose at play,
She says "come here and kiss me, my hon-ey dear,
Things are not as bad as they ap-pear."
"Geor-gia Rose, Geor-gia Rose
You're the most prec-ious rose Dix-ie grows;
'Tho it don't seem quite right,
'Cause your skin's dark as night
I know you've a heart li-ly white.
To the good Lord a-bove We all look just the same,
So don't hang your head in shame;
Geor-gia Rose, Geor-gia Rose,
Don't be blue 'cause you're black Geor-gia Rose."
Al-tho' Rose is a child no more,
She's think-ing of the days of yore,
Of when her dear old Mam-my in sym-pa-thy,
Spoke these words of wis-dom ten-der-ly: