The beer and the wurst were wonderful, but I was dying to be back in the South, where the livin' was easy, where the fish were jumpin', where the cotton grew high.
Yet sighes, deare sighes, indeeds true friends you are That do not leave your left friend at the wurst, But, as you with my breast, I oft have nurst So, gratefull now, you waite upon my care.