| Honey don’t you walk out
|
| I’m too drunk to follow
|
| I know you won’t feel this way
|
| Tomorrow
|
| A little rough around the edges
|
| Inside’s a little hollow
|
| I feel so beat down
|
| And so hard to swallow
|
| Hey, hey, hey
|
| (Hey, hey, hey)
|
| I was born a rebel
|
| Down in Dixie
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| On a Sunday mornin'
|
| With one foot in the ground
|
| One foot on the pedal
|
| I was born a rebel
|
| You picked up in the mornin' and you
|
| Paid off my ticket
|
| You screamed in the car and
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| Left me out in the thicket
|
| Oh I never would’ve dreamed
|
| That her heart was so wicked
|
| But I keep comin' back 'cause
|
| It’s so hard to kick it
|
| I was born a rebel
|
| Even before my father’s fathers
|
| They called us all rebels
|
| As they burned down our cornfields
|
| And left our cities leveled
|
| Well I still feel the eyes of them blue-bellied devils
|
| While I’m walking around through the concrete and metal
|
| Hey, hey, hey
|
| (Hey, hey, hey)
|
| Hey, hey, hey
|
| (Hey, hey, hey) |