| Let’s go down to Alabama
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| Let’s go see my dear old mama
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| Fryin' eggs and cookin' hammy
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| That’s what I like 'bout the South
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| She’s got baked ribs and candied yams
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| Sugar-cured Virginia hams
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| Basement full of those berry jams
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| And that’s what I like about the South
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| Ham hocks and turnip greens
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| Hog jolls and butter beans
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| Mardi Gras down in New Orleans
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| That’s what I like 'bout the South
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| Down where the trees grow tall
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| Where everybody says y’all
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| Walk on in with that Southern drawl
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| And that’s what I like about the South
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| Here comes old Parson with all the news
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| Box back coat and button shoes
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| All paid up with his union dues
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| That’s what I like 'bout the South
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| Did I tell you about the place called Doo-wah-diddy?
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| But it ain’t no town and it ain’t no city
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| It’s awful small but it’s mighty pretty
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| Doo-wah-diddy
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| Well, I’m not here to criticize
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| I’m not here to sympathize
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| But don’t tell me them no good lies
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| 'Cause a lyin' gal like you can devise
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| Every time I pass your door
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| You act like you don’t want me no more
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| You just raise your head and sigh
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| Well I’m gonna trackin' right on by
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| That’s what I like 'bout the South |