The rumblin’ ones is heavies, an’ the rattly ones is light;
The clinkin’ shells is pointin’ up their noses at the sky—
Oh, you c’n tell what’s passin’ as the trucks go rollin’ by.
But most of ’em is packin’ loads o’ human Yankee freight
That’ll slam the ol’ soft pedal ontuh Heinie’s hymn o’ hate;
You c’n hear ’em singin’ “Dixie,” and the “Sweet Bye ’N’ Bye,”
’N’ “Where Do We Go from Here, Boys?” as the trucks go rollin’ by.
Some’s singin’ songs as, when I left, they wasn’t even ripe
(A-showin’ ’at they’s rookies wot ain’t got a service stripe),
But jus’ the same they’re good ole Yanks, and that’s the reason why