Growing Up Down In the South

Just North of South Carolina Is where this country boy was born All I really cared in those growing years Was the running through woods kind of fun Those days I fondly remember There's no way you can bad mouth the South With water up to our knees chasing crawfish in creeks And anything else nature would allow Even squirrel hunting as younguns So my Granny could make us a pie No secret better kept than eating straight off the land Whether it was squirrels or apples to find Granny always made delicious pies Always in church every Sunday Paying the Lord his due respects For all that we have and all that he gives Plus for the forgiveness of sins Then after church when there weren't no chores We'd kiss and tell our parents goodbye They'd not see us again till we heard the bell ring Come about supper time There's something that's to be said about being a kid Growing up down in the South Where there's no better time below the Mason Dixon line But that you'd have to find out for yourself