I wanna go back to Dixie Take me back to dear ol' Dixie That's the only li'l ol' place for li'l ol' me Ol' times there are not forgotten Whuppin' slaves and sellin' cotton And waitin' for the Robert E. Lee (It was never there on time) I'll go back to the Swanee Where pellagra makes you scrawny And the Honeysuckle clutters up the vine I really am a-fixin' To go home and start a-mixin' Down below that Mason-Dixon line Oh, poll tax, how I love ya, how I love ya My dear old poll tax Won'tcha come with me to Alabammy Back to the arms of my dear ol' Mammy Her cookin's lousy and her hands are clammy But what the hell, it's home Yes, for paradise the Southland is my nominee Just give me a ham hock and a grit of hominy I wanna go back to Dixie I wanna be a dixie pixie And eat cornpone 'til it's comin' outta my ears I wanna talk with Southern gentlemen And put my white sheet on again I ain't seen one good lynchin' in years The land of the boll weevil Where the laws are medieval Is callin' me to come and nevermore roam I wanna go back to the Southland That you all and "shet-ma-mouth" land Be it ever so decadent There's no place like home