5. Dixie, I Call it Home

1. If God picked up a painter’s brush
And looked down from on high,
When He found the perfect canvass down below.
It would be just like a Georgia night,
Awash in starlit fields,
Beneath a silver moon, movin’ slow.

CHO You can feel it in the cotton-fields,
In the cities and the towns.
And by the clear blue streams,
Where cool water rushes down.
That feel is so familiar, no matter where you go.
Some folks call it Dixie, I call it home

2.As a young man, my aim was high
I’d make my dreams come true
Southern pride the quiver for my bow.
Outlasting kings, and wars, it lives
In every Southern soul
The same pride years ago, grand-daddy had known.

BRIDGE These are the things, that always comfort me.
Something way inside, something you can’t see.