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Here's just an old time story |
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One that you've heard before |
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I left my mammy's fine caress |
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To search the world for happiness |
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The things I left behind me |
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Were the things I sought in vain |
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Feelin blue, weary too |
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I'm going home again |
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Yes sir |
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I'm goin South |
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Taste the sugar cane right in my mouth |
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Everything is sweeter way down South |
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Where I spent my happy days |
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I hear the rustling corn |
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Birdies singing in the early morn |
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In the little town where I was born |
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Down in Alabamy way |
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I jump and picture black Joe |
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With his old banjo |
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He's strumming a tune |
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That old quartet I can hear them yet |
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Singing "By The Silvery Moon" |
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They've got sink a pack |
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Still out there by the little shack |
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There's nobody gona hold me back |
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I'm going South |
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Yes sir, yes sir |
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South, South, that's where I'm going |
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Taste the sugar cane right in my mouth |
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Everything is sweeter when I'm South |
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Where I spent my happy days |
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I hear the rusting corn |
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And the little birdies singing in the early morn |
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In the little town where I was born |
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Down in Alabamy, down in Alabamy way |
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Oh listen, can't you hear black Joe |
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Come on Joe play me that tune |
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There's my mammy old and gray |
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She singing "On A Silvery Moon" |
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Look, look, look people |
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I ain't got nothin to pack |
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I don't even own the clothes on my back |
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But mammy I'm coming back |
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I'm a going South |
