Lynn Anderson
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The shutters are cracked and dry now
And the roof lets the rain seep in
The old four walls are ready to fall
And the sign reads, "This House Condemned."

Once a mighty plantation
When a nation was at war
When mothers prayed for sons that went away
And cried for ones that came back no more.

But oh, if this house could talk, Lord
Of Dixieland's final days
Before they tear her down, before she hits the ground
I'll bet this is what she would say.

Early on one frosty morn, they raised my timbers and I was born
Lord, I remember the day
The mighty oak became my soul, the Delta dawn kept me from the cold
Lord, Lord, look away.

I've seen history, Robert E. Lee
And Johnny Reb hold his head up high
They can tear me down, down, down
But Dixieland, you will never die.

The garden gate is rusty
And the well's dusty and dry
The magnolia trees are swayin' in the breeze
As if to hang their heads and cry.

The ballroom is quiet and empty
Where the bands once used to play
And the battlefields are resting and still
With the ghosts of the blue and the gray.

This house has seen it all, Lord
As time kept marching on
But I'll bet these walls can recall
A story all their own.

I've seen King Cotton touch the sky, and riverboats floatin' by
On their way to New Orleans
I've bowed with people standin' tall, with their backs pushed up
against the wall,
Getting' by on hopes and dreams.

I've seen southern belles _____ ____ ___
And ________ with their heads held high
They can tear me down, down, down
But Dixieland, you will never die.

Dixieland, you will never die...


Mirror lyrics:

Dixieland, you will never die...

But Dixieland, you will never die.
They can tear me down, down, down
And ________ with their heads held high
I've seen southern belles _____ ____ ___

Getting' by on hopes and dreams.
against the wall,
I've bowed with people standin' tall, with their backs pushed up
On their way to New Orleans
I've seen King Cotton touch the sky, and riverboats floatin' by

A story all their own.
But I'll bet these walls can recall
As time kept marching on
This house has seen it all, Lord

With the ghosts of the blue and the gray.
And the battlefields are resting and still
Where the bands once used to play
The ballroom is quiet and empty

As if to hang their heads and cry.
The magnolia trees are swayin' in the breeze
And the well's dusty and dry
The garden gate is rusty

But Dixieland, you will never die.
They can tear me down, down, down
And Johnny Reb hold his head up high
I've seen history, Robert E. Lee

Lord, Lord, look away.
The mighty oak became my soul, the Delta dawn kept me from the cold
Lord, I remember the day
Early on one frosty morn, they raised my timbers and I was born

I'll bet this is what she would say.
Before they tear her down, before she hits the ground
Of Dixieland's final days
But oh, if this house could talk, Lord

And cried for ones that came back no more.
When mothers prayed for sons that went away
When a nation was at war
Once a mighty plantation

And the sign reads, "This House Condemned."
The old four walls are ready to fall
And the roof lets the rain seep in
The shutters are cracked and dry now


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