*** your clothesAnd those thingsWithout any fingersThe peach onesThat keep you warmIn a southern winterI'll fight a window shoppingWith my momWe'll goWhistling Dixie down the laneAnd those thingsSo who caresOur purse is almost emptyI'm the richest girlIn DixielandLook awayLook againShe is stillHolding my handHolding myHand*** your coatThe cloudyBlue oneWith the stripy buttonsThat keeps you warmIn a southern winterI'll fight a window shoppingWith my momWe'll goWhistling Dixie down the laneSo who caresOur purse is almost emptyI'm the richest girlIn DixielandLook awayLook againShe is stillHolding my handWhen the sun goes downHold my handHolding my handYeahLook away, look againShe is still holding my handHolding my handHolding my hand