| You coax the blues right out of the horn, Mame
 | 
| You charm the husk right off of the corn, Mame
 | 
| You’ve got that banjoes strummin'
 | 
| And plunkin' out a tune to beat the band
 | 
| The whole plantation’s hummin'
 | 
| Since you brought Dixie back to Dixie land
 | 
| You make the cotton easy to pick, Mame
 | 
| You give my old mint julep a kick, Mame
 | 
| Who ever thought a Yankee would put
 | 
| A little Dixie mouse to shame
 | 
| You’ve made us feel alive again
 | 
| You’ve given us the drive again
 | 
| To make the South revive again, Mame
 | 
| Beauregard Burnside:
 | 
| You’ve brought the cake-walk back into style, Mame
 | 
| You make the weepin' willow tree smile, Mame
 | 
| Your skin is Dixie satin
 | 
| There’s rebel in your manner and your speech
 | 
| You may be from Manhattan
 | 
| But Georgia never had a sweeter peach
 | 
| You make our black-eyed peas and our grits, Mame
 | 
| Seem like the bill of fare at the Ritz, Mame
 | 
| You came, you saw, you conquered
 | 
| And absolutely nothing is the same
 | 
| You’re special fascination’ll prove to be
 | 
| Inspirational
 | 
| We think you’re just sensational, Mame
 | 
| Since you brought Dixie back to Dixie land
 | 
| Since you brought Dixie back to Dixie land
 | 
| You coax the blues right out of the horn, Mame
 | 
| You charm the husk right off of the corn, Mame
 | 
| You’ve got that banjoes strummin'
 | 
| And plunkin' out a tune to beat the band
 | 
| The whole plantation’s hummin'
 | 
| Since you brought Dixie back to Dixie land
 | 
| You make the cotton easy to pick, Mame
 | 
| You give my old mint julep a kick, Mame
 | 
| Who ever thought a Yankee would put
 | 
| A little Dixie mouse to shame
 | 
| You’ve made us feel alive again
 | 
| You’ve given us the drive again
 | 
| To make the South revive again, Mame
 | 
| Mame! | 
| Mame! | 
| Mame! | 
| Mame! |