Yellow Dog Rag
- E'er since Miss Susan Johnson lost her Jockey, Lee,
- There has been much excitement, more to be;
- You can hear her moaning night and morn.
- "Wonder where my Easy Rider's gone?"
- Cablegrams come of sympathy,
- Telegrams go of inquiry,
- Letters come from down in "Bam",
- And ev'ry where that Uncle Sam
- Has even a rural delivery.
- All day the phone rings, but it's not for me,
- At last good tidings fill our hearts with glee,
- This message comes from Tennessee:
- Dear Sue, your Easy Rider struck his burg today
- On a southboun' rattler sidedoor Pullman car.
- Seen him here an' he was on the hog.
- (spoken) The smoke was broke, no joke, not a jitney on him.
- Easy Riders got a stay way,
- So he had to vamp it but the hike aint far.
- He's gone where the Southern cross' the Yellow Dog.
- I know the Yellow Dog District like a book,
- Indeed I know the route that Rider took;
- Ev'ry crosstie, bayou, burg and bog.
- Way down where the Southern cross' the Dog,
- Money don't zactly grow on trees,
- On cotton stalks it grows wid ease;
- No racehorse, racetrack no grandstand
- Is like Old Beck and Buckshot land,
- Down where the Southern cross' the Dog.
- Every kitchen there is a cabaret,
- Down there the boll wevil works while the darkies glee,
- This Yellow Dog Rag the livelong day.