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Tom: A
A
I ve seen the bright lights of Memphis,
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and the Commodore Hotel
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And underneath a street lamp, I met a southern belle
D A E
Oh, she took me to the river, where she cast her spell
E7 E E7 A
And in that southern moonlight, she sang this song so well
A E
If you ll be my Dixie chicken I ll be your Tennessee lamb
E7 E A D A
And we can walk together down in Dixieland
E7 A D A
Down in Dixieland
A . . .
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We made all the hotspots, my money flowed like wine
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Then the low-down southern whiskey, yea, began to fog my mind
D A E
And I don t remember church bells, or the money I put down
E7 E
On the white picket fence and boardwalk
E7 E A
On the house at the end of town
D A E
Oh, but boy do I remember the strain of her refrain
E7 E
And the nights we spent together
E7 E A
And the way she called my name
A E
If you ll be my Dixie chicken I ll be your Tennessee lamb
E7 E A D A
And we can walk together down in Dixieland
E7 A D A
Down in Dixieland
A . . .
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Well, many years since she ran away
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Yes that guitar player sure could play
E7 E
She always liked to sing along
E7 E A
She always handy with a song
D A E
But then one night at the lobby of the Commodore Hotel
E7 E E7 E A
I chanced to meet a bartender who said he knew her well
D A E
And as he handed me a drink he began to hum a song
E7 E E7 E A
And all the boys there, at the bar, began to sing along
A E
If you ll be my Dixie chicken I ll be your Tennessee lamb
E7 E A D A
And we can walk together down in Dixieland
E7 A D A
Down in Dixieland
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