She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand
She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand
She said, "I'm gonna find me a Georgia man"
She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand
Listen to me, brother, I ain't telling you wrong
I'm gonna make Georgia my permanent home
This here is a story 'bout Rebecca St. Claire
Always was a loser in the game of double dare
Someone bet her that she couldn't fly like a pelican
She jumped off of a parking deck and wrecked her curly hair
Scrape her off the sidewalk and put her in the ground
She rose up from the dirt and she was dirt-road bound
She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand
She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand
She said, "I'm gonna find me a Georgia man"
She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand
Listen to me, brother, I ain't telling you wrong
I'm gonna make Georgia my permanent home
She came upon a mansion that had seen the Civil War
She pulled away to curtsy from the charred front door
Floated up the stairs, brandishing a torch
Opened up the window and climbed on the front porch
Closed her empty eyes like Athena leading prayer
Jumped off of the railing and became the Georgia air
She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand
She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand
She said, "I'm gonna find me a Georgia man"
She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand
Listen to me, brother, I ain't telling you wrong
I'm gonna make Georgia my permanent home
Listen to me, brother, I ain't telling you wrong
I'm gonna make Georgia my permanent home