Find me out awalkin' time the whistle starts acallin' maybe stoppin' early knockin' at your door. Take so long to answer Lord knows it ain't the milkman would be stoppin' early sellin' door to door. This off'll get the stain out

Just a hunk, a hunk of burning love With burning love I feel my temperature rising Like the sweet song of a choir You light my morning sky 'Cause your kisses lift me higher Lord Almighty, Higher higher It's burning through to my soul

Sweet home Alabama Where the skies are so blue Lord, I'm coming home to you Alabama, ah ah ah Big wheels keep on turning Carry me home to see my kin Singing songs about the Southland

'Cause I know he's here He's everywhere Take a look around oh and you will see That cross we bear It's in the air Lord we thank you for these gifted hands I remember the day that he came in I can't believe how long it's been Like a poet, he began to play

Sweet home Alabama Where the skies are so blue Lord, I'm coming home to you Big wheels keep on turning Carry me home to see my kin Singing songs about the south-land I miss 'ole' 'bamy once again and I think it's a sin Well I heard Mister Young sing

Please don't let my dreams run dry He just takes the tractor another round And pulls the plow across the ground And sends up another prayer He says, "Lord, I never complain, I never ask why Underneath, underneath this Amarillo sky." He gets up before the

All I have is a song Oh you know I ain't complainin' 'Cause I can tell, lord its just your plan So I thank you for what I have And that's a song These ol' white lines on the highway Lord its all I know Seems like I've been out all my life But I just

And this bird you can not change But, if I stayed here with you, girl Things just couldn't be the same Cause I'm as free as a bird now Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh Lord knows, I can't change If I leave here tomorrow Would you still remember me? For I must be

Sweet home Alabama Where the skies are so blue Lord, I'm coming home to you Big wheels keep on turning Carry me home to see my kin Singing songs about the south-land I miss 'ole' 'bamy once again And I think it's a sin Well I heard Mister Young sing

Oh, girl, you know it's on (oh yeah) I came here to slay shit (yeah, yeah) All night I'ma work the grave-shift (Lord, Lord) These drugs I'm on, they ain't nothing to play with (sky high) I can't feel my face, yeah, yeah (yeah, yeah) When I pull up on ya