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      Dixi gighway

      Dixi gighway

      Alan Jackson

      Album: Thirty Miles West

      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.
      
      Wood frame house and gravel driveway
      Willow trees and old front porch
      Just outside the city limits, on the highway 34.
      
      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.
      
      And having tobacco growing on the roadside
      Rolled it up and we smoked it down.
      Don’t do much, but it makes you feel big
      When you’re ten years old in a tiny town.
      
      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.
      
      Have a chicken pen right in the backyard
      Clothes line running east to west
      Butter bean and Tomato garden, six days and a Sunday rest.
      
      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.
      
      Summertime, hot and hazy, bare feet and a water hose
      Melon rind on a country table
      Lightning bugs when the sun goes down.
      
      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.
      
      And the holy ghost on a Sunday morning,
      Gospel songs and a Bible read
      Sunday lunch at momma’s table, thank the Lord and break the bread.
      
      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.
      
      Screened in porch right at the backdoor,
      Washing machine and an old wood stove
      Momma’s singing in the kitchen, rolling homemade biscuit dough.
      
      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.
      
      When I’m old and Heaven’s calling
      And they come to carry me away
      Just lay me down, down in south land
      Bury me in the Georgia clay.
      
      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.

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