In a flatbed, in a trailer
You are royalty there
Among kings and their jailers
You speak the truth with your open mouth
Oh, to be a boy
In the dirty south

In the rec room
When the rains came
She opened her arms to you
You tried to love her, well,
You only ended up in jail
The dirty south
Is your living hell

A tree, you stand there
While they sharpen their blades
To cut you down

Beautiful things can come from
The dark I once said and I
Hoped that you would believe and
Rise up from the ashes, but now
You've been beaten down
By the dirty south
So, let's give a crown
A gold, shining crown
To the dirty south

To be a boy
In the dirty south

Copyright: Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC
Writer(s): ORENDA FINK