F7 Bb F7 Bb
I wanna go back to dixie,
Bb7 Eb
Take me back to dear ol' dixie,
Edim Bb Fm G7 C7
That's the only li'l ol' place for li'l ol' me.
F7 Bb Bb7
Ol' times there are not for-gotten,
Eb
Whoppin' slaves and sellin' cotton,
Edim Bb C7 F7
And waitin' for the robert E. Lee.
spoken - (it was never there on time.)
Bb
I'll go back to the swanee,
Bb7
Where pel-lagra makes you scrawny,
Eb Gb/E Bb Bdim F7
And the jasmine and the tear gas spell just fine.
Bb Bbdim F7
I really am a-fixin'
Bb Fm6 G7
To go back where there's no mixin'
C7 F7 Bb F7
Down below that mason-dixon line.
C C C
Poll Tax. How I love ya, How I love ya.
C7 C
My Dear Ole Poll Tax
(SPOKEN)
Bb Bb7 Eb Ebm
Won'tcha come with me to alabammy,
Bb Bb7 Eb Ebm
Back to the arms of my dear ol' mammy,
Bb Bb7 Eb Ebm
Her cookin's lousy and her hands are clammy,
Bb F7 Bb
But what the hell, it's home.
F7 Fdim F7
SUNG - Yes, for paradise the southland is my nominee.
F7 Fdim F7
Jes' give me a ham hock and a grit of hominy.
F7 Bb F7 Bb
I wanna start relaxin'
Bb7 Eb
Down in Birmingham or Jackson.
Edim Bb Fm G7 C7 F7
And have some fun while no one interferes
Bb Bb7
I wanna talk with southern gentlemen
Eb Edim
And put my white sheet on again,
Bb C7 F7
I ain't seen one good lynchin' in years.
Bb
The land of the boll weevil,
Bb7
Where the laws are medieval,
Eb Gb/E Bb Bdim F7
Is callin' me to come and nevermore roam.
Bb Bdim F7
I wanna go back to the southland,
Bb Bdim F7
That "y'all" and "shut-my-mouth" land,
Bb F7 Bb F7/Bb
Be it e--ver
Bb Ab G7
so dec-a-dent,
C7 F7 Bb F7 Bb
There's no place like home.