Way down south in the Okeefenokee, in the land of trembling earth,
Fat catfish and cypress knees drink slow, thick water the color of tea.
Snakes go blind in the dog-day sun, strike out at each and everyone,
But swampers barefoot in the tall canebrake, where there's diamondbacks just thick as they make.
And the August sun just sank behind the back of a longleaf pine.
I'm lying on my back, trying to slip into a dream, leave the hot afternoon behind.
But Aunt Betty's on the porch, wearing a cowboy hat, singing,
"Yodelodelodelodelaeehoo!"

Way down south in the Okeefenokee, bullfrogs croak where the islands float.
Mud's just as black as a moccasin's back, and the sky's nearly wide as a Geechee's smile.
Way down south in the Okeefenokee, herons roost beneath mossy trees.
We drink salty beer and sweet, sweet tea, just soggy soda crackers in the beggar weeds.
And the shade beneath this sweet gum tree is cool as river water.
I'm lying on my back, trying to slip into a dream, with that old bootlegger's daughter.
But Aunt Betty's on the porch. She thinks she's Dale Evans, singing,
"Yodelodelodelodelaeehoo!"

Way down south in the Okeefenokee, in the land of trembling earth,
We laugh a little louder, drink a little longer, and all go crazy in the dog-day sun.
And now Betty's agitating cause Gabby's misbehaving, and Roy's been gone too long.
"Why do you figure he's always riding off on Trigger, leaving me here alone?"
Punctuating these hysterics, something ever more barbaric, her
Yodelodelodelodelaeehoo!

Well, the bumblebee and the dragonfly, cicadas all buzz their lullabies.
Further and further slips the day. I'm a winking, and a blinking, and a nodding stowaway.
But now Betty's gone and picked a Cherokee rose, stuck it behind her ear.
Yodeling and cradling the hot, heavy air, she waltzes round her rocking chair.

And it's plain to see there ain't no sleep to be had. The dog-day heat's got the whole swamp mad.
So I leave the shade of that sweetgum tree, amble on over to my waltzing auntie.
I dust myself down, make a little bow, and say,
"Hey, Dale, it's Roy. I'm done chasing desperadoes. And I just wondered if I could have this dance with you?"

Hand-in-hand, we take to the floor
While cowboys in the bunkhouse cry out for more and more and more and more
As we go, "Yodelodelodelodelaeehoo!"