Now we're listenin' to old Alabama A little dixieland delight and it feels so right Oh, play me some old Alabama She'd rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans Than a fancy evening dress And with her windows rolled down And her hair all blown around She's a

Now we're listenin' to old Alabama A little dixieland delight and it feels so right Oh, play me some old Alabama She'd rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans Than a fancy evening dress And with her windows rolled down And her hair all blown around She's a

I wanna put you in my car and drive And turn you up loud, roll down all the windows and shout it out If I could press play, repeat, how happy I'd be Wherever I'd go I'd have you there with me You'd be right where you belong Let me put you in a song Well

Now we're listenin' to old Alabama A little dixieland delight and it feels so right Oh, play me some old Alabama She'd rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans Than a fancy evening dress And with her windows rolled down And her hair all blown around She's a

Now we're listenin' to old Alabama A little dixieland delight and it feels so right Oh, play me some old Alabama She'd rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans Than a fancy evening dress And with her windows rolled down And her hair all blown around She's a

All I wanna do is make my hometown proud Make them turn it up loud, roll them windows down Gonna give them that sound, everybody's talking about We still the same old, same old southern boys Still got that same old, same old southern voice We're singing

We can leave the night on Girl, you got the beat right, killin' in your Levis High on your loving's got me buzzin' like a streetlight We'll find a road with no name, lay back in the slow lane We'll be rolling down the windows, I bet you we're catchin'

Now we're listenin' to old Alabama A little dixieland delight and it feels so right Oh, play me some old Alabama She'd rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans Than a fancy evening dress And with her windows rolled down And her hair all blown around She's a

We went to the beach And we went to the beach Every year, the middle of June We crammed into that Astro van Tighter than a can of sardines We fought in the back And dad got mad And mama rolled the windows down "Y'all smell the salt of the beach?"

Now we're listenin' to old Alabama A little dixieland delight and it feels so right Oh, play me some old Alabama She'd rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans Than a fancy evening dress And with her windows rolled down And her hair all blown around She's a