F7 Bb Bb I wanna go back to dixie, Bb7 Eb Take me back to dear ol' dixie, Edim Bb Fm G7 C7 That's the only li'l ol' place for li'l ol' me. F7 Bb Bb7 Ol' times there are not for-gotten, Eb Whoppin' slaves and sellin' cotton, EdimBb C7 F7 And waitin' for the robert E. Lee. spoken - (it was never there on time.) Bb I'll go back to the swanee, Bb7 Where pel-lagra makes you scrawny, Eb Gb/E Bb F7im And the jasmine and the tear gas spell just fine. Bb Bbdim F7 I really am a-fixin' Bb Fm6 G7 To go back where there's no mixin' C7 F7 Bb F7 Down below that mason-dixon line. C C C Poll Tax. How I love ya, How I love ya. C7 C My Dear Ole Poll Tax (SPOKEN) Bb Bb7 Eb Ebm Won'tcha come with me to alabammy, Bb Bb7 Eb Ebm Back to the arms of my dear ol' mammy, Bb Bb7 Eb Ebm Her cookin's lousy and her hands are clammy, Bb F7 Bb But what the hell, it's home. F7 Fdim F7 SUNG - Yes, for paradise the southland is my nominee. F7 Fdim F7 Jes' give me a ham hock and a grit of hominy. F7 Bb F7 Bb I wanna start relaxin' Bb7 Eb Down in Birmingham or Jackson. Edim Bb Fm G7 C7 F7 And have some fun while no one interferes Bb Bb7 I wanna talk with southern gentlemen Eb Edim And put my white sheet on again, Bb C7 F7 I ain't seen one good lynchin' in years. Bb The land of the boll weevil, Bb7 Where the laws are medieval, Eb Gb/E Bb BF7m Is callin' me to come and nevermore roam. Bb Bdim F7 I wanna go back to the southland, Bb Bdim F7 That "y'all" and "shut-my-mouth" land, Bb F7 Bb F7/Bb Be it e--ver Bb Ab G7 so dec-a-dent, C7 F7 Bb F7Bb There's no place like home.