Aah-haa-haaah
Aah-haa-haaah
Aah-haa-haaah
Aah-haa-haaah
When you’re
living in a dry county,
So dry, you can't hate no more,
Leave your
dogs tied up by the door,
You'd be a
fool to expect much more
Enough of
place to live your stories of (?),
I tip a
hard county line,
Wrap them
in burlap and tie them with twine,
Some day
your Boston tale will be mine
In this
barren place where I once found you,
And all the
funny shapes, that boiling astounds you,
And when I
sing to you, I still might just astound you
Oh, hummin'
and hummin’, you better call Dixie Darling
Hummin' and
hummin’, you better call Dixie Darling
Hummin' and
hummin’, you better call
Hey!
Aah-haa-haaah
Aah-haa-haaah
Aah-haa-haaah
Aah-haa-haaah
When you’re
living in a dry county,
So dry, the
Dark Prince has left for good,
Build your
house out of unfinished wood
And hide
that hat with the pointy hood
And when
you lose your mind,
You smile more, than you do on your happiest days,
And if I
can't understand, what you say,
What makes
you think god would, when you pray?
This way of
life is immune to any theory,
Don't the
weight of it leave you so weary,
And when I
sing to you now, don't it make you teary?
Oh, hummin'
and hummin’, you better call Dixie Darling
Hummin' and
hummin’, you better call Dixie Darling
Hummin' and
hummin’, you better call
Aah-haa-haaah
Aah-haa-haaah
Hah-haa-haaah
Hah-haa-haaah
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