Dixie Highway (feat. Zac Brown) Lyrics
| Song | Dixie Highway (feat. Zac Brown) |
| Artist | Alan Jackson |
| Album | Thirty Miles West |
| Download | Image LRC TXT |
| 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 a gravel driveway | |
| Willow trees and old front porch | |
| Just outside the city limits, out on 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 | |
| That rabbit 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 | |
| Yeah I was born on the Dixie Highway, red clay and Georgia pines | |
| Yeah I was raised on the Dixie Highway, no sweeter place you’ll ever find | |
| Have a chicken pen right in the backyard | |
| Close line running east to west | |
| Butterbean 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 lime on a country table | |
| Lightning buds 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. | |
| 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. | |
| I screamed in porch right out the backdoor, | |
| Washing machine and an old wood stove | |
| Momma singin’ 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 the southland | |
| 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 |
| 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 a gravel driveway | |
| Willow trees and old front porch | |
| Just outside the city limits, out on 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 | |
| That rabbit 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 | |
| Yeah I was born on the Dixie Highway, red clay and Georgia pines | |
| Yeah I was raised on the Dixie Highway, no sweeter place you' ll ever find | |
| Have a chicken pen right in the backyard | |
| Close line running east to west | |
| Butterbean 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 lime on a country table | |
| Lightning buds 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. | |
| 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. | |
| I screamed in porch right out the backdoor, | |
| Washing machine and an old wood stove | |
| Momma singin' 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 the southland | |
| 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 |
| 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 a gravel driveway | |
| Willow trees and old front porch | |
| Just outside the city limits, out on 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 | |
| That rabbit 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 | |
| Yeah I was born on the Dixie Highway, red clay and Georgia pines | |
| Yeah I was raised on the Dixie Highway, no sweeter place you' ll ever find | |
| Have a chicken pen right in the backyard | |
| Close line running east to west | |
| Butterbean 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 lime on a country table | |
| Lightning buds 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. | |
| 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. | |
| I screamed in porch right out the backdoor, | |
| Washing machine and an old wood stove | |
| Momma singin' 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 the southland | |
| 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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