You coax the blues right out of the horn, Mame
You charm the husk right off of the corn, Mame
You’ve got the banjos strumming
And plunking out a tune to beat the band
The whole plantation’s humming
Since you brought Dixie back to Dixieland
You make the cotton easy to pick, Mame
You give my old mint julep a kick, Mame
Whoever thought a Yankee would
Put our little Dixie belles to shame?
You’ve made us feel alive again
You’ve given us the drive again
To make the South revive again, Mame
You’ve brought the cakewalk back into style, Mame
You make the weeping 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 the old magnolia tree bud, Mame
You make camellias bloom in the mud, Mame
You make the bougainvillea turn purple
At the mention of your name
We’re baking pecan pies again
Tonight the chicken fries again
This time the South will rise again
(spoken)
Well, shut my mouth and freeze my face
You’ve brought some elegance to the place
There’s sowbelly, hominy, catfish and tripe, Mame
Well, shut my mouth and damn my eyes
You’ve made the price of tobacco rise
The old watermelon is suddenly ripe, Mame
And down on the levee
A beautiful bevy
Of crinoline ladies has flocked
The way that they’re squealing
They give me the feeling
The Robert E. Lee must have docked
The strumming and ringing
The humming and singing
Is starting to get out of hand
(sung)
Since you brought Dixie back to Dixieland
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
Your special fascination’ll
Prove to be inspirational
We think you’re just sensational, Mame
Since you brought Dixie back to Dixieland
You coax the blues right out of the horn, Mame
You charm the husk right off of the corn, Mame
You’ve got that banjos strumming
And plunking out a tune to beat the band
The whole plantation’s humming
Since you brought Dixie back to Dixieland
You make the cotton easy to pick, Mame
You give my old mint julep a kick, Mame
Whoever thought a Yankee would put
Our little Dixie belles 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!