| I’m gonna go down on the creek bank, gather all my people
|
| Pitch horseshoes until the sun goes down
|
| Gonna barbecue my ribs, eat potato salad
|
| Let the bird dogs run, let the children sing
|
| Lord we’re gonna get down
|
| Yes, we shall gather down in Dixie
|
| Where my father and my children’s feet have trod
|
| We shall all sing «Hallelujah»
|
| I’m American by birth, and Southern by the grace of God
|
| I’m gonna slip off with my cousin
|
| For a little shot of bourbon
|
| Listen to him stretch the truth for a little while
|
| I’m gonna sneak up behind my baby
|
| And tell her that I love her
|
| I’m gonna lay her down in a hickory sheet
|
| And watch my baby smile
|
| Yes, we shall gather down in Dixie
|
| Where my father and my children’s feet have trod
|
| We shall all sing «Hallelujah»
|
| I’m American by birth, and Southern by the grace of God
|
| Yes, we shall gather down in Dixie
|
| Where my father and my children’s feet have trod
|
| We shall all sing «Hallelujah»
|
| I’m American by birth, and Southern by the grace of God |