歌曲 | Dixie Highway (feat. Zac Brown) |
歌手 | Alan Jackson |
专辑 | Thirty Miles West |
下载 | Image LRC TXT |
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 | |
A wood frame house and a gravel driveway | |
Willow trees and old front porch | |
Just outside the city limits, out on 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 | |
That rabbit 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 | |
Yeah I was born on the Dixie Highway, red clay and Georgia pines | |
Yeah I was raised on the Dixie Highway, no sweeter place you’ll ever find | |
Have a chicken pen right in the backyard | |
Close line running east to west | |
Butterbean 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 lime on a country table | |
Lightning buds 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. | |
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. | |
I screamed in porch right out the backdoor, | |
Washing machine and an old wood stove | |
Momma singin’ 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 the southland | |
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 |
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 | |
A wood frame house and a gravel driveway | |
Willow trees and old front porch | |
Just outside the city limits, out on 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 | |
That rabbit 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 | |
Yeah I was born on the Dixie Highway, red clay and Georgia pines | |
Yeah I was raised on the Dixie Highway, no sweeter place you' ll ever find | |
Have a chicken pen right in the backyard | |
Close line running east to west | |
Butterbean 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 lime on a country table | |
Lightning buds 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. | |
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. | |
I screamed in porch right out the backdoor, | |
Washing machine and an old wood stove | |
Momma singin' 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 the southland | |
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 |
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 | |
A wood frame house and a gravel driveway | |
Willow trees and old front porch | |
Just outside the city limits, out on 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 | |
That rabbit 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 | |
Yeah I was born on the Dixie Highway, red clay and Georgia pines | |
Yeah I was raised on the Dixie Highway, no sweeter place you' ll ever find | |
Have a chicken pen right in the backyard | |
Close line running east to west | |
Butterbean 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 lime on a country table | |
Lightning buds 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. | |
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. | |
I screamed in porch right out the backdoor, | |
Washing machine and an old wood stove | |
Momma singin' 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 the southland | |
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 |