Born on the Hudson, twenty-two years gone
  Bred and raised in the City
  From my daddy's knee I learned the Union songs
  Grandma sang lullabies in Dixie
  And though the Northern winters fills my heart with joy
  It's the Southern sun that shines down
  On this Yankee boy
    Well mama dreams of Paris nights and boatin' on the Seine
  She said, we're gonna make it there too soon as Papa comes home again
  She'd speak to me in broken French dressed like a painting of Lautrec
  At night she'd clutch me to her breast and say, well make it outta here
  And though Parisian ladies strut so fine down the Eiffel morning
  It's a Southern one I sing my songs for
    Well with the local bunch of do-good boys and an old man from the West
  We crossed the land in the caravan we traveled with the best
  W saw circus acts and vaudeville hacks and a Mississippi Delta Queen
  She told me the news and sold me her blues in an alley in New Orleans
  And though the Western plains are still stained
  With the blood of great cowboys
  It's a Southern sun that shines down on this Yankee boy