I was born on the Dixie Highway
Red clay and Georgia pines
I was raised on the Dixie Highway,
No sweeter place you'll ever find
A wood frame house and gravel driveway
Willow trees, an old front porch
Just outside the city limits, down ol' Highway 34.
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Had rabbit tobacco growing on the roadside
Rolled it up and we smoked it down.
It don't do much but it makes you feel big
When you're ten years old in a tiny town.
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Had a chicken pen right in the backyard
Clothes line running east to west
Butter bean and tomato garden
Six days and a Sunday rest
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Summertime, hot and hazy, bare feet and a water hose
Melon rinds on a concrete table
Lighting bugs when the sun goes down.
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The Holy Ghost on Sunday morning,
Gospel songs and the Bible read
Sunday lunch at Mama's table
Thank the Lord and break the bread
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Had a screened in porch right out the backdoor,
A washing machine and old wood stove
Moma singing in the kitchen, rollin' homemade biscuit dough
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When I'm old, heaven's calling
And they come to carry me away
Just lay me down, down in South Land
Bury me in the Georgia clay
Yeah I was born on the Gerrgia Highway
Red clay and Georgia pines
I was raised on the Dixie Highway
No sweeter place you'll ever find
No sweeter place you'll ever find
No sweeter place you'll ever find