The correct name for this tune is TAKE ME BACK TO COL-LER-RAD-DA FER TO STAY and was written in 1929 by Moran Moore. He used a lot of slang and I will write it exactly as he did.

Take me back to Col-ler-rad-da.
She's a-beatin' ole New-vad-da.
I'm a-longin fer them foothills ever' day.
Hit's so soothin' in the evenin'
When the old gray wolf's a-grievin'.
Take me back to Col-ler-rad-da fer to stay,
Fer to stay, fer to stay,
Col-ler-rad-da or I'm bustin' right away.
Ah jes love the roar and rattle
Of the hoofs and horns of cattle.
Take me back to Col-ler-rad-da for to stay.

When those north winds get to howling
And the old kyote a-prowling,
Then hit's me a-settin' by the farr.
Mah old hound dog won't be a-growlin'
And you won't ketch me a-scowlin'
Fer we both know jest ezactly whur we orr.
Whur we orr, whur we orr,
You kin bet your boots we're knowin' whur we orr.
Mah old hound dawg'll be scratchin' fleas
And ah'll be toastin' mah ole knees
A-settin' in mah cabin bah the farr.

Thar's a gal that ah'm a-lovin'.
Talk about yer turtle dovin'.
You can tell the world we invented that.
We'll be at the squire's a-marryin'
And we won't be a-tarryin'
As soon as ah can find out where she's at.
Whur she's at, whur she's at,
Ah'll be gettin' up and under my ole hat.
Ah'll be jumpin' in the saddle
And mah bronk he'll be skeedaddle
Jes as soon as ah can find out whur she's at.

Ah'm a fool about mah eatin'.
On the table I was beatin'
When the waiter handed me a bill-o-fare.
It was spots an' specks an' broken necks
Of half a hundred poor insects.
I up and left the dirty place right there.
Left it there, left it there,
Mah ole stomach was a-gettin' on a tare.
When the waiter shouted, "Comin up,"
He told the truth. Right on mah cup
I saw one climbin' looked jest like a bear.

If I die at six or seven,
Before eight, Ah'll be in heaven,
Swappin' yarns with ole Saint Peter at the gate.
I do hope ah can stay a spell
An' he won't send me down to Hell.
I've heard some things down there I know I'd hate.
I would hate, I would hate,
I've been thinkin' of that very thing of late.
Up in heaven suits me very well.
Ah don't care for bein' down in Hell.
I've heard some things down there I know I'd hate.

O, I bought a little Ford machine
And filled 'er up on gasoline.
I cranked it up and the dern thing got away.
Gosh, it didn't wait till I got in,
So now I've got a pile o' tin,
But every month I walk right up and pay.
Up and pay, up and pay,
So much down and so much ev'ry certain day.
Gosh, it didn't wait till I got in,
So now I own a pile of tin,
But ev'ry month I walk right up and pay.