"Uncle Hayes" was born a son of a slave in the late 1880 in the Black Hills in North Carolina. When his family died he was too young to leave behind and the Sutton family brought him along when they relocated to Southern Maryland. He died in 1962 and although not a slave, he was buried in a slave graveyard located on Chandler's Hope farm in Port Tobacco, MD.
Hayes brought this song from his childhood roots in North Carolina. He used to play it on his harmonica for my mother when she was young, and she used to sing it for me when I was young.
The Watermelon Song
sung by "Uncle Hayes" Chambers
You can talk about your apples
your peaches and your pears
Your simmons hangin' on that simmon tree
But bet your heart my honey
Of all the fruit that grows
That watermelon am the fruit for me
Oh! Hambone am good!
Chicken 'em sweet!
Possum meat am very very fine!
But give me, oh give me
I really wish you would
That watermelon hangin' on that vine
But when I went to futch it
Was on a rainy night
The moon it had not yet begun to shine
And oh that white man saw me
And he shot me through the fence
But I never left that melon on that vine