[ Featuring The Dead South ]
Well, I wish I was in the land of cotton
Old times they are not forgotten
Look away, look away, look away Dixieland
Although musket and cannon have torn his gray coat
Don't he look fine and handsome?
Don't he look at his most
For he fought in the foxhole and at this I will boast
Don't they look fine and handsome
My poor Johnny boy's bones?
Well, who will bring back my Johnny boy's bones?
To lay beneath the trees of his Tennessee home
A box, a box made of sturdy white oak
With his arms folded up and his blue eyes all closed
Well, he died for his country
And he died for his kin
And he died killing men
A most honorable sin
But them mean boys in blue
They done turned him in
When they laid him low
With a laugh and a grin
Oh, who will bring back my Johnny boy's bones?
To lay beneath the trees of our Tennessee home
A box, a box made from sturdy white oak
With his arms folded up and his blue eyes all closed
Oh, who will bring back my Johnny boy's bones?
To lay beneath the trees of our Tennessee home
A box, a box made from sturdy white oak
With his arms folded up and his blue eyes all closed
Oh, who will bring back my Johnny boy's bones?
To lay beneath the trees of our Tennessee home
A box, a box made from sturdy white oak
With his arms folded up and his blue eyes all closed
