F7 Bb       F7      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, 
Edim  Bb              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  Bdim  F7 
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  Bdim  F7 
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  F7  Bb 
There's no place like home.