SON OF THE SOUTH

Writer Bill Anderson



I was born eatin' gravy and black-eyed peas

Cracklin' bread and turnip greens

Washin' ‘em down with a big

I'm a son of the south

I've picked tomatoes off of the vine

Watermelon in the summertime

Ate ‘em in the shade of a Georgia pine

I'm a son of the south

I'm a son of a son of a son of the south

For generations of “bless your heart”

And “honey chile, hush your mouth”

My great grandaddy knew Robert E. Lee

I knew Elvis and he knew me

I learned about Jesus at my mama's knee

Like every good son of the south

I had one grandaddy was a preacher man

He loved the lord and he hated sin

He used to let me go to church with him

He was a son of the south

My other grandpappy ran a moonshine still

Up in the woods high on a hill

He took me there once and that was a thrill

He was a son of the south

Now I've got a little boy six years old

He knows and he didn't have to be told

He was born with a whole lot of soul

He's a son of the south

He's already picked cotton and a little guitar

Drank his milk from a mason jar

He knows good and well where his roots are

He's a son of the south

Spoken:

Save your confederate money, boys

I'm a son of the south.