Written by Bob McDill

Chorus
Song, song of the south.
Sweet potato pie and I shut my mouth.
Gone, gone with the wind.
There ain't nobody looking back again.

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.

Sing it...
Chorus

Well somebody told us Wall Street fell
But we were so poor that we couldn't tell.
Cotton was short and the weeds were tall
But Mr. Roosevelt's a gonna save us all.

Well momma got sick and daddy got down.
The county got the farm and they moved to town.
Pappa got a job with the TVA
He bought a washing machine and then a Chevrolet.

Sing it...
Chorus

Play it...

Sing it...
Chorus

Song, song of the south...
Gone, gone with the wind...

Song, song of the south.
Sweet potato pie and I shut my mouth.
Song, song of the south.
Sweet potato pie and I shut my mouth.

Sing it...
Chorus 2X