Hello, stranger, how do you do? There's something I'd like to say to you.
You seem surprised, I recognize. I'm no detective, but I'm just surmised.
You're from the place I'm longing to see. Your smiling face seems to say to me.
You're from my homeland, my sunny homeland. Tell me, can it be?
Are you from Dixie? I say, from Dixie, where the fields of cotton beckon to me.
I'm glad to see you. Tell me, I'll be you. And the friends I'm longing to see.
Are you from Alabama, Tennessee, or Caroline? Anyplace below the Mason-Dixon line.
Are you from Dixie? I say, from Dixie, cause I'm from Dixie too.
It was way back in old 89, when first I crossed that Mason-Dixon line.
Gee, but I've yearned long to return to all those good old folks I loved.
Left behind, my home was way down in old Alabama, on a plantation near Birmingham.
And there's one thing certain, I'm surely flirting with those southbound trains.
Are you from Dixie? I say, from Dixie, where the fields of cotton beckon to me.
I'm glad to see you. Tell me, I'll be you. And the friends I'm longing to see.
Are you from Alabama, Tennessee, or Caroline? Anyplace below the Mason-Dixon line.
Are you from Dixie? I say, from Dixie, cause I'm from Dixie too.