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