Dere vash shoost one bottle of champagne,
Dat bopped at efery mile.

Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas;
I dell you vot, my poy,
You bet dey hat a pully dimes
In crossin' Illinoy.
Dey speaked deir speaks to all de folk
A shtandin' in de car;
Den ask dem in to dake a trink,
Und corned em gans und gar.

Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas;
By shings! dey did it prown.
When he got into Leafenvort,
He found himself in town.
Dey dined him at de Blanter's House,
More goot as man could dink;
Mit efery dings on eart' to eat,
Und dwice as mooch to trink.

Hans Breitmann vent to Kansas;
He vent it on de loud.
At Ellsvort, in de prairie land,
He foundt a pully crowd.
He looked for bleedin' Kansas,
But dat's "blayed out," dey say;
De vhiskey keg's de only ding
Dat's bleedin' dere to-day.