F7 Bb       F7      Bb
I  wanna go back to dixie,
Bb7     Eb                
Take me back to dear ol' dixie,
Edim       Bb   Fm       G7                 C7
That's the only li'l ol' place for li'l ol' me.
F7        Bb                Bb7
Ol' times there are not for-gotten,
         Eb
Whoppin' slaves and sellin' cotton,
Edim  Bb              C7           F7
And   waitin' for the robert E. Lee.

spoken - (it was never there on time.)
     Bb
I'll go back to the swanee,
          Bb7
Where pel-lagra makes you scrawny,
        Eb                             Gb/E  Bb  Bdim  F7
And the jasmine and the tear gas spell just fine.
  Bb    Bbdim  F7
I really am a-fixin'
      Bb        Fm6         G7
To go back where there's no mixin'
     C7               F7    Bb   F7
Down below that mason-dixon line.

C         C              C
Poll Tax. How I love ya, How I love ya.
C7              C
My Dear Ole Poll Tax


(SPOKEN)
         Bb        Bb7   Eb  Ebm
Won'tcha come with me to alabammy,
     Bb      Bb7       Eb       Ebm
Back to the arms of my dear ol' mammy,
    Bb       Bb7           Eb        Ebm
Her cookin's lousy and her hands are clammy,
    Bb       F7         Bb      
But what the hell, it's home.

                F7           Fdim            F7
SUNG - Yes, for paradise the southland is my nominee.
          F7            Fdim          F7
Jes' give me a ham hock and a grit of hominy.

F7  Bb   F7     Bb
I wanna start relaxin'
Bb7     Eb
Down in Birmingham or Jackson.
Edim Bb       Fm        G7        C7    F7
And have some fun while no one interferes
        Bb                 Bb7
I wanna talk with southern gentlemen
    Eb                       Edim
And put my white sheet on again,
  Bb                  C7               F7
I ain't seen one good lynchin' in years.
    Bb 
The land of the boll weevil, 
          Bb7 
Where the laws are medieval,
   Eb                         Gb/E  Bb  Bdim  F7
Is callin' me to come and nevermore roam.
        Bb      Bdim    F7
I wanna go back to the southland,
       Bb         Bdim    F7
That "y'all" and "shut-my-mouth" land,
Bb F7 Bb F7/Bb 
Be it e--ver  
Bb    Ab G7
so dec-a-dent,
        C7 F7         Bb  F7  Bb
There's no place like home.