---

---

 

 

Mary Antebellum, what you gonna tell 'em
when you make it to the northern scene?
All those Boston ladies
and the trust fund babies
laughing at your worn blue jeans.
Yeah, they think it's funny with their daddy's money,
whispering behind their hands.
They could never handle
that they couldn't hold a candle
to the Queen of Dixieland.

Oh... it begins with your milk white skin
and the soft glow of your face.
With your dreamers gaze and the genteel ways
of your sweet Southern grace.
With your mother's manners and your open heart
and your smile like a summer breeze.
If they ever knew you, Mary Ann,
it would bring them to their knees.

Blind to your virtue, who would ever hurt you -
they could never see your worth.
You learned how to live and how to forgive
as a child in a small town church.
It's a cold strange world for a wide-eyed girl -
don't you ever feel alone.
I'll build you a shrine, here in my mind,
'til the day that you come home.

Oh... it begins with your milk white skin
and the soft glow of your face.
With your dreamers gaze and the genteel ways
of your sweet Southern grace.
With your baptized faith in the bleeding heart
of the Savior that you please.
If they ever knew him, Mary Ann,
it would bring them to their knees.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

---