| 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! |