The war, you know, ’s all done and ended,
And ain’t changed no p’ints o’ the compass;
Both North and South the health’s jes’ splendid
As ’fore the rumpus.
The old farms and the old plantations
Still ockipies the’r old positions.
Le’ ’s git back to old situations
And old ambitions.
Le’ ’s let up on this blame’, infernal
Tongue-lashin’ and lap-jacket vauntin’