Letra de «Dixi gighway»
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.
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.
