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Started By
Message
Looking for quotes from songs about being southern or being from the South
Posted on 7/15/15 at 12:37 pm
Posted on 7/15/15 at 12:37 pm
i.e. "Sweet as Tupelo honey" Van Morrison
What you got
What you got
21
Posted on 7/15/15 at 12:40 pm to threeputt
Alabama:
"Cotton on the roadside, cotton in the ditch
We all picked the cotton but we never got rich
Daddy was a veteran, a southern democrat
They oughta get a rich man to vote like that"
"Cotton on the roadside, cotton in the ditch
We all picked the cotton but we never got rich
Daddy was a veteran, a southern democrat
They oughta get a rich man to vote like that"
Posted on 7/15/15 at 12:46 pm to threeputt
quote:
i.e. "Sweet as Tupelo honey" Van Morrison
Interesting the Irishman captured the spirit of the south very well. According to Jimmy Buffett, he was really insprired while touring and performing in the South during that period of time. Also, according to Buffett, the stadium in "behind the stadium, with you" - in Brown-eyed Girl is LSU's Tiger Stadium.
However, "The Night They Drove Old Dixie Down" (written by Canadian Robbie Robertson, and sung by Arkansan Levon Helm) is my pick for this topic.
Says it all. ETA: Sorry, didn't process you actually wanted quotes or lyrics -
Virgil Kane is the name
And I served on the Danville train
'Till Stoneman's cavalry came
And tore up the tracks again
In the winter of '65
We were hungry, just barely alive
By May the 10th, Richmond had fell
It's a time I remember, oh so well
The night they drove old Dixie down
And the bells were ringing
The night they drove old Dixie down
And the people were singing
They went, "Na, na, la, na, na, la"
Back with my wife in Tennessee
When one day she called to me
"Virgil, quick, come see,
There goes Robert E. Lee!"
Now, I don't mind chopping wood
And I don't care if the money's no good
You take what you need
And you leave the rest
But they should never
Have taken the very best
The night they drove old Dixie down
And the bells were ringing
The night they drove old Dixie down
And all the people were singing
They went, "Na, na, la, na, na, la"
Like my father before me
I'm a working man
And like my brother above me
Who took a rebel stand
He was just 18, proud and brave
But a Yankee laid him in his grave
I swear by the blood below my feet
You can't raise a Kane back up
When he's in defeat
The night they drove old Dixie down
And the bells were ringing
The night they drove old Dixie down
And all the people were singing
They went, "Na, na, la, na, na, la"
The night they drove old Dixie down
And all the bells were ringing
The night they drove old Dixie down
And the people were singing
They went, "Na, na, la, na, na, la
This post was edited on 7/15/15 at 1:04 pm
Posted on 7/15/15 at 12:49 pm to Ace Midnight
Drive-by Truckers: Sinkhole was the first to come to mind
I've always been a religious man, I 've always been a religious man
But I met the banker and it felt like sin, he turned my bailout down
The Banker Man, he let into me, let into me, let into me
The Banker Man, he let into me and spread my name around
He thinks I ain't got a lick of sense cause I talk slow and my money's spent
Now, I ain't the type to hold it against, but he better stay off my farm
Cause it was my Daddy's and his Daddy's before
And his Daddy's before and his Daddy's before
Five generations and an unlocked door and a loaded burglar alarm.
Lots of pictures of my purdy family, lots of pictures of my purdy family
Lots of pictures of my purdy family in the house where I was born.
House has stood through five tornadoes,
Droughts, floods, and five tornadoes.
I'd rather wrastle an alligator than to face the Banker's scorn
Cause he won't even look me in the eye
He just takes my land and apologize,
With pen, paper, and a friendly smile, he says the deed is done.
The sound you hear is my Daddy spinning, The sound you hear is my Daddy spinning
The sound you hear is my Daddy spinning over what the Banker done.
Like to invite him for some pot roast beef and mashed potatoes and sweet tea
Follow it up with some banana pudding and a walk around the farm
Show him the view from McGee Town Hill
Let him stand in my shoes and see how it feels
To lose the last thing on earth that's real
I'd rather lose my legs and arms
Bury his body in the old sink hole Bury his body in the old sink hole
Bury his body in the old sink hole under cold November sky
Then damned if I wouldn't go to church on Sunday
Damned if I wouldn't go to church on Sunday
Damned if I wouldn't go to church on Sunday
And look the Preacher in the eye.
I've always been a religious man, I 've always been a religious man
But I met the banker and it felt like sin, he turned my bailout down
The Banker Man, he let into me, let into me, let into me
The Banker Man, he let into me and spread my name around
He thinks I ain't got a lick of sense cause I talk slow and my money's spent
Now, I ain't the type to hold it against, but he better stay off my farm
Cause it was my Daddy's and his Daddy's before
And his Daddy's before and his Daddy's before
Five generations and an unlocked door and a loaded burglar alarm.
Lots of pictures of my purdy family, lots of pictures of my purdy family
Lots of pictures of my purdy family in the house where I was born.
House has stood through five tornadoes,
Droughts, floods, and five tornadoes.
I'd rather wrastle an alligator than to face the Banker's scorn
Cause he won't even look me in the eye
He just takes my land and apologize,
With pen, paper, and a friendly smile, he says the deed is done.
The sound you hear is my Daddy spinning, The sound you hear is my Daddy spinning
The sound you hear is my Daddy spinning over what the Banker done.
Like to invite him for some pot roast beef and mashed potatoes and sweet tea
Follow it up with some banana pudding and a walk around the farm
Show him the view from McGee Town Hill
Let him stand in my shoes and see how it feels
To lose the last thing on earth that's real
I'd rather lose my legs and arms
Bury his body in the old sink hole Bury his body in the old sink hole
Bury his body in the old sink hole under cold November sky
Then damned if I wouldn't go to church on Sunday
Damned if I wouldn't go to church on Sunday
Damned if I wouldn't go to church on Sunday
And look the Preacher in the eye.
Posted on 7/15/15 at 12:58 pm to threeputt
Lynyrd Skynyrd "All I Can Do Is Write About It"
quote:
Well, this life that I've live has took me everywhere
There ain't no place I ain't never gone
But it's kind of like the saying that you heard so many times
Well, there just ain't no place like home
Did you ever see a she-gator protect her young
Or a fish in a river swimming free?
Did you ever see the beauty of the hills of Carolina
Or the sweetness of the grass in Tennessee?
And, Lord, I can't make any changes
All I can do is write 'em in a song
'Cause I can see the concrete slowly creepin'
Lord, take me and mine before that comes
Would you like to see a mountain stream a-flowin'?
Would you like to see a youngin' with his dog
Did you ever stop to think about, well, the air your breathin'?
Well, you better listen to my song
And, Lord, I can't make any changes
All I can do is write 'em in a song
Yes but I can see the concrete slowly creepin'
Lord, take me and mine before that comes
I'm not tryin' to put down no big cities
But the things they write about us is just a bore
Well, you can take a boy out of ol' dixieland
Lord but you'll never take ol' dixie from a boy
And, Lord, I can't make any changes
All I can do is write 'em in a song
Yes but I can see the concrete slowly creepin'
Lord, take me and mine before that comes
'Cause I can see the concrete slowly creepin'
Lord, take me and mine before that comes
Posted on 7/15/15 at 1:17 pm to threeputt
Posted on 7/15/15 at 1:25 pm to threeputt
And FWIW aside from the title
quote:has nothing to do with the South
Tupelo honey" Van Morrison
Posted on 7/15/15 at 1:35 pm to threeputt
CCR "Cotton Fields"
quote:
When I was a little bitty baby
My mama would rock me in the cradle,
In them old cotton fields back home;
It was down in Louisiana,
Just about a mile from Texarkana,
In them old cotton fields back home.
Oh, when them cotton bolls get rotten
You can't pick very much cotton,
In them old cotton fields back home.
It was down in Louisiana,
Just about a mile from Texarkana,
In them old cotton fields back home.
When I was a little bitty baby
My mama would rock me in the cradle,
In them old cotton fields back home;
It was down in Louisiana,
Just about a mile from Texarkana,
In them old cotton fields back home.
Oh, when them cotton bolls get rotten
You can't pick very much cotton,
In them old cotton fields back home.
It was down in Louisiana,
Just about a mile from Texarkana,
In them old cotton fields back home.
When I was a little bitty baby
My mama would rock me in the cradle,
In them old cotton fields back home;
It was down in Louisiana,
Just about a mile from Texarkana,
In them old cotton fields back home.
In them old cotton fields back home.
Posted on 7/15/15 at 1:41 pm to AUGDawg
Maybe too on the nose, but I go with The Southern Thing by the Truckers...
Ain't about my pistol
Ain't about my boots
Ain't about no northern drives
Ain't about my southern roots
Ain't about my guitars, ain't about my big old amps
"It ain't rained in weeks, but the weather sure feels damp"
Ain't about excuses or alibis
Ain't about no cotton fields or cotton picking lies
Ain't about the races, the crying shame
To the fricking rich man all poor people look the same
Don't get me wrong It just ain't right
May not look strong, but I ain't afraid to fight
If you want to live another day
Stay out the way of the southern thing
Ain't about no hatred better raise a glass
It's a little about some rebels but it ain't about the past
Ain't about no foolish pride, Ain't about no flag
Hate's the only thing that my truck would want to drag
You think I'm dumb, maybe not too bright
You wonder how I sleep at night
Proud of the glory, stare down the shame
Duality of the southern thing
My Great Great Granddad had a hole in his side
He used to tell the story to the family Christmas night
Got shot at Shiloh, thought he'd die alone
From a Yankee bullet, less than thirty miles from home
Ain't no plantations in my family tree
Did not believe in slavery, thought that all men should be free
"But, who are these soldiers marching through my land?"
His bride could hear the cannons and she worried about her man
I heard the story as it was passed down
About guts and glory and Rebel stands
Four generations, a whole lot has changed
Robert E. Lee
Martin Luther King
We've come a long way rising from the flame
Stay out the way of the southern thing
Ain't about my pistol
Ain't about my boots
Ain't about no northern drives
Ain't about my southern roots
Ain't about my guitars, ain't about my big old amps
"It ain't rained in weeks, but the weather sure feels damp"
Ain't about excuses or alibis
Ain't about no cotton fields or cotton picking lies
Ain't about the races, the crying shame
To the fricking rich man all poor people look the same
Don't get me wrong It just ain't right
May not look strong, but I ain't afraid to fight
If you want to live another day
Stay out the way of the southern thing
Ain't about no hatred better raise a glass
It's a little about some rebels but it ain't about the past
Ain't about no foolish pride, Ain't about no flag
Hate's the only thing that my truck would want to drag
You think I'm dumb, maybe not too bright
You wonder how I sleep at night
Proud of the glory, stare down the shame
Duality of the southern thing
My Great Great Granddad had a hole in his side
He used to tell the story to the family Christmas night
Got shot at Shiloh, thought he'd die alone
From a Yankee bullet, less than thirty miles from home
Ain't no plantations in my family tree
Did not believe in slavery, thought that all men should be free
"But, who are these soldiers marching through my land?"
His bride could hear the cannons and she worried about her man
I heard the story as it was passed down
About guts and glory and Rebel stands
Four generations, a whole lot has changed
Robert E. Lee
Martin Luther King
We've come a long way rising from the flame
Stay out the way of the southern thing
Posted on 7/15/15 at 1:48 pm to threeputt
Merry Go round by Kacey Musgraves perfectly describes like in the south. Depressing as frick.
Posted on 7/15/15 at 1:54 pm to CocoLoco
Take me back to a south Tallahassee
Down cross the bridge to my sweet sassafrassy
Down cross the bridge to my sweet sassafrassy
Posted on 7/15/15 at 2:00 pm to threeputt
Buddy Jewel / Sweet Southern Comfort
Misty sunrise in my hometown,
Rows of cotton bout knee high,
Mrs. Baker down the dirt road,
Still got clothes out on the line,
Erwin Nichols there with Judge Lee,
Playin checkers at the gin,
When I dream about the southland,
This is where it all begins
From Carolina down to Georgia,
Smell the jasmine and magnollia,
Sleepy Sweet home Alabama,
Roll tide roll,
Muddy water, Misssissippi,
Blessed Graceland whispers to me,
Carry on, Carry on,
Sweet Southern Comfort carry on,
Catchin catfish on the river,
Chasin fireflies by the creek,
Kissin Debbie Williams sister,
On the porch Homecommin week,
With rusty cars and weeping willows,
Keepin watch out in the yard,
Just a snapshot of downhome Dixie,
Could be anywhere you are,
In Carolina or in Georgia,
Open arms are waitin for ya,
Louisianna yellow rose of San Antone,
Arkansas, Mississippi,
Old man river whispers to me,
Carry on, Carry on,
Sweet Southern Comfort carry on,
As I sit here I'm surrounded,
By these priceless memories,
I don't have to think about it,
There's no place I'd rather be,
In Carolina or in Georgia,
Smell the jasmine and magnollia,
Sleepy Sweet home Alabama,
Roll tide roll,
Muddy water, Misssissippi,
Blessed Graceland whispers to me,
Carry on, Carry on,
Sweet Southern Comfort,
Carry on, Carry on,
Sweet Southern Comfort carry on
Misty sunrise in my hometown,
Rows of cotton bout knee high,
Mrs. Baker down the dirt road,
Still got clothes out on the line,
Erwin Nichols there with Judge Lee,
Playin checkers at the gin,
When I dream about the southland,
This is where it all begins
From Carolina down to Georgia,
Smell the jasmine and magnollia,
Sleepy Sweet home Alabama,
Roll tide roll,
Muddy water, Misssissippi,
Blessed Graceland whispers to me,
Carry on, Carry on,
Sweet Southern Comfort carry on,
Catchin catfish on the river,
Chasin fireflies by the creek,
Kissin Debbie Williams sister,
On the porch Homecommin week,
With rusty cars and weeping willows,
Keepin watch out in the yard,
Just a snapshot of downhome Dixie,
Could be anywhere you are,
In Carolina or in Georgia,
Open arms are waitin for ya,
Louisianna yellow rose of San Antone,
Arkansas, Mississippi,
Old man river whispers to me,
Carry on, Carry on,
Sweet Southern Comfort carry on,
As I sit here I'm surrounded,
By these priceless memories,
I don't have to think about it,
There's no place I'd rather be,
In Carolina or in Georgia,
Smell the jasmine and magnollia,
Sleepy Sweet home Alabama,
Roll tide roll,
Muddy water, Misssissippi,
Blessed Graceland whispers to me,
Carry on, Carry on,
Sweet Southern Comfort,
Carry on, Carry on,
Sweet Southern Comfort carry on
Posted on 7/15/15 at 2:01 pm to Rohan2Reed
Better Than Ezra - A Southern Thing
Kelly was a blackjack dealer
Living on the Gulf of Mexico
Kelly had a taste for guns and pills
He was looking for a mark to roll
Sara was a Kappa from Tulane
She was looking for a little change of pace
When a cop pulled them over on the interstate
Kelly blew that car away
(I heard them singing)
Gulf breeze on the porch
Me and my honey rocking back and forth
Light it up again with my kin and friends
Underneath a yellow moon
(It's a Gas)
Sweet dream New Orleans
Mississippi River running over me
Pretty Momma come and take me by the hand
Don't mock what you don't understand
It's a Southern Thing
Now when they held up a bank in Mobile
They finally made it on the evening news
She's a Georgia Peach never within reach
He's a felon from Baton Rouge
I heard Robert Johnson playing on a steel guitar
In the heat of the Delta sun
When Kelly drove them back up to Memphis
To finish what the King had once begun
(Come on and sing it now)
Gulf breeze on the porch
Me and my honey rocking back and forth
Light it up again with my kin and friends
Underneath a yellow moon
(It's a Gas)
Sweet dream New Orleans
Mississippi River rolling over me
Pretty Momma come and take me by the hand
Don't mock what you dont understand
It's a Southern Thing
If we ever get out of here
I want you to promise me
You'll go down to the Gulf
And swim
Deep in the sea
And you'll think of me
The way you used to sing
That silly song to me
Singing
M-I crooked letter crooked letter
Hump back hump back
Get a little closer
M-I crooked letter crooked letter
Hump back hump back
Get a little closer
Gulf breeze on the porch
Me and my honey rocking back and forth
Light it up again with my kin and friends
Underneath a yellow moon
(It's a Gas)
Sweet dream New Orleans
Mississippi River running over me
Pretty Momma come and take me by the hand
Don't mock what you don't understand
It's a Southern Thing
Kelly was a blackjack dealer
Living on the Gulf of Mexico
Kelly had a taste for guns and pills
He was looking for a mark to roll
Sara was a Kappa from Tulane
She was looking for a little change of pace
When a cop pulled them over on the interstate
Kelly blew that car away
(I heard them singing)
Gulf breeze on the porch
Me and my honey rocking back and forth
Light it up again with my kin and friends
Underneath a yellow moon
(It's a Gas)
Sweet dream New Orleans
Mississippi River running over me
Pretty Momma come and take me by the hand
Don't mock what you don't understand
It's a Southern Thing
Now when they held up a bank in Mobile
They finally made it on the evening news
She's a Georgia Peach never within reach
He's a felon from Baton Rouge
I heard Robert Johnson playing on a steel guitar
In the heat of the Delta sun
When Kelly drove them back up to Memphis
To finish what the King had once begun
(Come on and sing it now)
Gulf breeze on the porch
Me and my honey rocking back and forth
Light it up again with my kin and friends
Underneath a yellow moon
(It's a Gas)
Sweet dream New Orleans
Mississippi River rolling over me
Pretty Momma come and take me by the hand
Don't mock what you dont understand
It's a Southern Thing
If we ever get out of here
I want you to promise me
You'll go down to the Gulf
And swim
Deep in the sea
And you'll think of me
The way you used to sing
That silly song to me
Singing
M-I crooked letter crooked letter
Hump back hump back
Get a little closer
M-I crooked letter crooked letter
Hump back hump back
Get a little closer
Gulf breeze on the porch
Me and my honey rocking back and forth
Light it up again with my kin and friends
Underneath a yellow moon
(It's a Gas)
Sweet dream New Orleans
Mississippi River running over me
Pretty Momma come and take me by the hand
Don't mock what you don't understand
It's a Southern Thing
Posted on 7/15/15 at 2:10 pm to threeputt
I will be your Dixie Chicken if you be my Tennessee Lamb, and we can walk together down in Dixieland.
Also the song Southern Nights by Allen Touissant
Also the song Southern Nights by Allen Touissant
Posted on 7/15/15 at 2:18 pm to threeputt
"Southern Accents" by Tom Petty is a beautiful song and the lyrics reflect some true experiences about his boyhood in the South.
LINK
There's a southern accent, where I come from
The young 'uns call it country, the yankees call it dumb
I got my own way of talking, but everything gets done
With a southern accent, where I come from
Now that drunk tank in Atlanta, is just a motel room to me
Think I might go work Orlando, if them orange groves don't freeze
Got my own way of working, but everything is run
With a southern accent, where I come from
For just a minute there I was dreaming
For just a minute it was all so real
For just a minute she was standing there, with me
There's a dream I keep having, where my momma comes to me
And kneels down over by the window, and says a prayer for me
Got my own way of praying, but everything one's begun
With a southern accent, where I come from
Got my own way of living, but everything is done
With a southern accent, where I come from
LINK
There's a southern accent, where I come from
The young 'uns call it country, the yankees call it dumb
I got my own way of talking, but everything gets done
With a southern accent, where I come from
Now that drunk tank in Atlanta, is just a motel room to me
Think I might go work Orlando, if them orange groves don't freeze
Got my own way of working, but everything is run
With a southern accent, where I come from
For just a minute there I was dreaming
For just a minute it was all so real
For just a minute she was standing there, with me
There's a dream I keep having, where my momma comes to me
And kneels down over by the window, and says a prayer for me
Got my own way of praying, but everything one's begun
With a southern accent, where I come from
Got my own way of living, but everything is done
With a southern accent, where I come from
This post was edited on 7/15/15 at 2:20 pm
Posted on 7/15/15 at 2:26 pm to threeputt
Posted on 7/15/15 at 2:26 pm to threeputt
I was born in Louisiana on Bayou Manchac
Poppa was a trapper from Napoleonville
Momma was a dark-eyed cajun woman
If I'd listened to my momma I'd be there still
Took my schoolin down in Morgan City
Used to go to dances in Abbeville
Fell in love with a lady from New Orleans
Hadn't been for her I'd be there still
Oh my Bayou Country
Smell of Magnolia bring you to your knees
Fais-do-do's and cajun women
Spanish moss hangin from a big oak tree
Travelled back and forth across this country
Met alot of people and I made alot of friends
Got the feel of the swampland runnin in my blood
Going back home but I don't know when
California's fallin, Detroit's burnin
Whole lotta trouble in Chicago town
Nothing very pretty 'bout New York City
Mississippi take me back to higher ground
Well I got to get back to the Bayou Country
Smell of Magnolias bring you to your knees
Fais-do-do's and cajun women
Spanish moss hangin from a big oak tree
Oh my Bayou Country
Cold Gritz
Bayou Country
Poppa was a trapper from Napoleonville
Momma was a dark-eyed cajun woman
If I'd listened to my momma I'd be there still
Took my schoolin down in Morgan City
Used to go to dances in Abbeville
Fell in love with a lady from New Orleans
Hadn't been for her I'd be there still
Oh my Bayou Country
Smell of Magnolia bring you to your knees
Fais-do-do's and cajun women
Spanish moss hangin from a big oak tree
Travelled back and forth across this country
Met alot of people and I made alot of friends
Got the feel of the swampland runnin in my blood
Going back home but I don't know when
California's fallin, Detroit's burnin
Whole lotta trouble in Chicago town
Nothing very pretty 'bout New York City
Mississippi take me back to higher ground
Well I got to get back to the Bayou Country
Smell of Magnolias bring you to your knees
Fais-do-do's and cajun women
Spanish moss hangin from a big oak tree
Oh my Bayou Country
Cold Gritz
Bayou Country
This post was edited on 7/15/15 at 2:43 pm
Posted on 7/15/15 at 2:43 pm to ChoupiqueSacalait
When I was young and needed my time alone
Jump in the pirogue, pole down the bayou
Bogue Falaya River was dark and cold
Seven years old, I couldn't find my way home
Old times, good times
Old times, good times
When I was twelve, I learned how to play the guitar
Got myself a job in a Jax Beer bar
Got myself together, went to New Orleans
Found myself workin' for rice and beans
Old times, good times
Old times, good times
New York City was so damned cold
I had to get out of that town before I got old
California, rock and roll dream
Got too high and we blew our whole scene
But we had a good time
Old times, good times
Old times, good times
Old times, good times
Old times, good times
Old times, good times
Old times, good times
Stephen Stills
Old Times, Good Times
Jump in the pirogue, pole down the bayou
Bogue Falaya River was dark and cold
Seven years old, I couldn't find my way home
Old times, good times
Old times, good times
When I was twelve, I learned how to play the guitar
Got myself a job in a Jax Beer bar
Got myself together, went to New Orleans
Found myself workin' for rice and beans
Old times, good times
Old times, good times
New York City was so damned cold
I had to get out of that town before I got old
California, rock and roll dream
Got too high and we blew our whole scene
But we had a good time
Old times, good times
Old times, good times
Old times, good times
Old times, good times
Old times, good times
Old times, good times
Stephen Stills
Old Times, Good Times
Posted on 7/15/15 at 3:01 pm to threeputt
quote:
Looking for quotes from songs about being southern or being from the South
Red Stick Ramblers - That's What I like About The South (YouTube)
Lyrics
This post was edited on 7/15/15 at 3:02 pm
Posted on 7/15/15 at 5:10 pm to threeputt
"black water" doobie bros
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