Lyrics:

Well, the Providence helpin' the poor people, Lord those could not help theirselves
Well, the Providence helpin' the poor people, those could not help theirselves, boy
They give 'em all a meal a day, boys, then they help someone else

I went to the office this mornin', 'bout a-half past four
Heard Mr. Roosevelt say they wasn't gonna help no more

Told them, 'No, Providence, it ain't gonna help no more'
Well, well, it may be tomorrow, hoo-hoo, Lord, I don't really know

Well, Mr. Roosevelt told me ain't gonna be no hard times no more
He gonna let the poor people go any place they wants to go

I told him, 'Yes, Providence, it ain't gonna help no more'
Well, well, it may be tomorrow, hoo, Lord, I won't be back no more

I got up this mornin', 'bout a-half past eight
Started down Pine Street, boy, to get my meal ticket straight

They told me, 'No, Providence, it ain't gonna help no more'
Well, well, it may be tomorrow, hoo, Lord, might dust my bed to go

Well, it's some has a shovel, some has a spade
You know, the Providence will give me and my babe a place to stay

And I told them, no, he wasn't gonna help you no more
Well, well, it may be tomorrow, hoo, Lord, I don't really know

Well the rooster told the hen, the hen, 'Go lay'
She told him, 'No, the Providence, give me a place to stay'

She told him, no, she don't have to lay no more
Well, well, it may be tomorrow, hoo, Lord, I won't be back here at all

I aksed my woman this mornin' could I fill her place
She said, 'No, Joe, the Providence give me a place to stay'

She told me, no, Lord, I could not fill her place
Lord, I believe I'll get up in the mornin', hoo, Lord, I believe I'll leave this place

Every mornin' the clock be strikin' eight
That's when I go down to Providence, boy, and I can't get my business straight

They told me, no, they wasn't gonna help me no more