The South will rise again

Gimme three steps and call me the breeze, Steve Gaines on guitar, Billy Powell on the keys. I feel the last rebel everywhere that I roam, gimme back my bullets, I'm coming home. On that october day southwest of mississippi, Ronnie van Zant left our hearts filled with pity, the street survivor had been taken away, the freebird had flown at the end of the day.

 Flirtin with disaster with Danny Joe Brown, 3 guitars front make the southern rock sound. No glits, no glory, the unwritten law, the great Duane Roland won't boogie no more. But the south will rise again.

 Stonewall Jackson Robert E. Lee, Nathan Bedford Forrest and his fight to be free. Gernal George Gordon had a much better plan, the confederate army evolved into the klan. Fires in the woods hear an alabamba town, men would gather round as the sun was going down. Hate them, carpet baggers, they'd show them who was boss, should have seen their faces as they set fire to the cross.

 Flirtin with disaster with Danny Joe Brown, 3 guitars front make the southern rock sound. No glits, no glory, the unwritten law, the great Duane Roland won't boogie no more. But the south will rise again.

 The dukes of hazard and the general Lee, Daisy Duke ripped the heart from me. Run illegal whisky on the back roads through the night, hear the rebel yell, and they're not afraid to fight. Dixie flag on our stage tonight, a symbol of strenght, a symbol of pride. The rebel banner means as much to me, as it did to the men of the rebel company.

 Flirtin with disaster with Danny Joe Brown, 3 guitars front mare the southern rock sound. No glits, no glory, the unwritten law, the great Duane Roland won't boogie no more. But the south will rise again.