The process has begun. First installment is the first verse.

Stephen sprawled across the bed,
raised a bottle to his mouth.
Pictures danced across his head,
Gentle breezes from the South,
Cotton Fields with voices ringing low, "Old black Joe."
Here's to one tender and fair,
Jeanie with the light brown hair,
Raise a banjo to her knee, sang a lovely melody,
Weep no more my lady shed your care, I'll be there.

Chorus is posted above.