| Won’t you come with me to Alabamy? | 
| Let’s go see my dear old Mammy | 
| She’s fryin' eggs and boiling hammy | 
| That’s what I like about the South | 
| Now there you can make no mistakey | 
| Where those nerves are never shaky | 
| Ought to taste her layer cakey | 
| That’s what I like about the South | 
| She’s got baked ribs and candied yams | 
| Those sugar-cured Virginia hams | 
| Basement full of those berry jams | 
| An' that’s what I like about the South | 
| Hot corn bread, black eyed peas | 
| You can eat as much as you please | 
| 'Cause it’s never out of season | 
| That’s what I like about the South | 
| Ah, don’t take one, have two | 
| There’s dark brown and chocolate too | 
| Suits me, they must suit you | 
| 'Cause that’s what I like about the South | 
| Well it’s way, way down where the cane grows tall | 
| Down where they say, «Y'all» | 
| Walk on in with that Southern drawl | 
| 'Cause that’s what I like about the South | 
| Down where they have those pretty queens | 
| Keep a-dreamin' those dreamy dreams | 
| Well let’s sip that absinthe in New Orleans | 
| That’s what I like about the South | 
| Here comes that man with all the news | 
| Box back coat with button shoes | 
| All paid up with his union dues | 
| And that’s what I like about the South | 
| Now there’s a place down south called Dowadiddy | 
| It ain’t no jive and it ain’t no city | 
| It’s awful small, but it sure is pretty | 
| That’s Dowadiddy | 
| Here come old Roy down the street | 
| Ho, can’t you hear those tappin' feet | 
| He would rather sleep than eat | 
| An' that’s what I like about the South | 
| Now every time I pass your door | 
| You act like you don’t want me no more | 
| Why don’t you shake that head and sigh | 
| And I’ll go truckin' right on by | 
| Well, I didn’t come here to criticize | 
| I’m not here to sympathize | 
| But don’t tell me those no-good lies | 
| That a lyin' gal like you can devise | 
| If you love me like I love you | 
| Send me fifty P-D-Q | 
| Roses are red and violets are pink | 
| If I don’t get all fifty, I don’t show | 
| She’s got backbones and turnip greens | 
| Ham hocks and butter beans | 
| You, me and New Orleans | 
| An' that’s what I like about the South |