| I was born in Dixieland
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| Unreconsrtucted till the end
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| In Carolina I was raised by my grandaddy and my daddy’s ways
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| They both taught me right from wrong
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| How to fight and how to get along
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| But my own life is almost gone — in Southern ground I belong.
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| My final hour is drawing near
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| So friend come sit by me right here
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| Lets laugh and talk about our lives and the good ol days before I die.
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| Please give your word this vow you’ll keep,
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| when I return to earth to sleep
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| Let me dream forever under Southern land
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| With a Dixie flag tied in my hand.
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| Friend when my time is come,
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| before they lay me down to rest
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| Friend in my time of darkness,
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| Please grant me just this one last request
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| Dixieland is where I wanna make my final stand
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| I dont care if I’m in a box or not when they lay me down
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| Just bury me in Southern ground.
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| One last look at the countryside before I close my weary eyes.
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| Southern air for my last breath.
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| Oh come my sweet angel of death!
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| Sing Dixie while they bury me, so I’ll hear it for eternity.
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| I can feel the reapers touch!
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| ashes to ashes, dust to dust.
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| (Oh I wish I was in the Land of Cotton)
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| Dixieland is where I wanna make my final stand.
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| I dont care if I’m in a box or not when they lay me down
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| Just bury me in Southern ground. |