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’