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SON OF THE
Writer Bill

I was born eatin' gravy and peas
bread and turnip greens
Washin' 'em down a big
I'm a son of the
I've picked off of the vine
in the summertime
Ate 'em in the shade of a pine
I'm a son of the
I'm a son of a son of a son of the
For of "bless your heart"
And "honey chile, hush mouth"
My great grandaddy knew E. Lee
I knew Elvis and he me
I learned about Jesus at my mama's
Like every son of the south
I had one grandaddy was a man
He loved the and he hated sin
He used to let me go to with him
He was a son of the
My grandpappy ran a moonshine still
Up in the high on a hill
He me there once and that was a thrill
He was a son of the
Now I've got a little boy six old
He knows and he didn't to be told
He was born with a lot of soul
He's a son of the
He's already picked cotton and a little
Drank his from a mason jar
He knows good and where his roots are
a son of the south

Save your confederate money,
I'm a son of the south.