Lyrics Drive-By Truckers

Drive-By Truckers

The Southern Thing

Ain't about my pistol

Ain't about my boots

Ain't about no northern drives

Ain't about my southern roots

Ain't about my guitars, ain't about my big old amps

"It ain't rained in weeks, but the weather sure feels damp"

Ain't about excuses or alibis

Ain't about no cotton fields or cotton picking lies

Ain't about the races, the crying shame

To the fucking rich man all poor people look the same

Don't get me wrong It just ain't right

May not look strong, but I ain't afraid to fight

If you want to live another day

Stay out the way of the southern thing

Ain't about no hatred better raise a glass

It's a little about some rebels but it ain't about the past

Ain't about no foolish pride, Ain't about no flag

Hate's the only thing that my truck would want to drag

You think I'm dumb, maybe not too bright

You wonder how I sleep at night

Proud of the glory, stare down the shame

Duality of the southern thing

My Great Great Granddad had a hole in his side

He used to tell the story to the family Christmas night

Got shot at Shiloh, thought he'd die alone

From a Yankee bullet, less than thirty miles from home

Ain't no plantations in my family tree

Did NOT believe in slavery, thought that all men should be free

"But, who are these soldiers marching through my land?"

His bride could hear the cannons and she worried about her man

I heard the story as it was passed down

About guts and glory and Rebel stands

Four generations, a whole lot has changed

Robert E. Lee

Martin Luther King

We've come a long way rising from the flame

Stay out the way of the southern thing