The Southern Thing Lyrics - Southern Rock Opera - Drive By Truckers

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