Oh back in the woods of Vazzy land
I’d catch me a fat wild turkey
And cook and clean it all so’well
It’d make some tasty jerky
In Vazzy land there fish and foul
An’ all that good ol’ stuff
When a mans start breathing forest air
He’ll never get enough
So it's a'hey (he-hay) ho (he-ho)
I’m going back to vazzy!
We’ll sip a cup’a brandy in the place we all call home
And its a hey (he-hay) ho (he-ho)
Back to the grand old homeland
I’m a Zantine boy no matta’ how far I roam
All t’way back in sixty se’en
Will fought for the folks
When Gen’ral Sheridan looked about
He thought that we were jokes
But we licked in the woodlands
And we got’im at the hill
And we may have died
But then in eighty-five
We fought back and came out alive
And since then we been livin’ still
So hey (he-hay) ho (he-ho)
I’m going back to Vazzy!
We’ll fight for our great homeland everyday
And its a hey (he-hay) ho (he-ho)
Back to the grand old homeland
I’m a Zantine boy no matta’ what they may say
(fiddle interlude)
So I went down to New Orleans
where I met a fine lady
She asked me ‘bout my funky ways
It clearly drove her cra’y
I told her of those forest hills
That’d make you feel a’right
She told me then to stay in town
And maybe spend the night
I told her hey (he-hey) ho (he-ho)
I’ll be headed back to Vazzy
This great big city ain’t nothin to my home
And its a hey (he-hay) ho (he-ho)
I’ll be back down at my farmhouse
I’m a Zantine boy no matta’ how far I roam
So hey (he-hay) ho (he-ho)
I’m going back to vazzy!
We’ll sip a cup’a brandy in the place we all call home
And its a hey (he-hay) ho (he-ho)
Back to the grand old homeland
I’m a Zantine boy no matta’ how far I roooaaaammmm!
-Zantine Boy by Dave Holmann, 1933
I’m thinking about making a one-off timeline or graphic thing about the history of Van Zandt and the regions surrounding it. Tell me what you thing and I’ll elaborate further on the subject.