THEY CALLED US ALL REBELS—Y’ALL CALL US ALL RACISTS

“Honey don’t walk out, I’m too drunk to follow

You know you won’t feel this way tomorrow

Well, maybe a little rough around the edges

Or inside a little hollow,

I get faced with some things, sometimes

That are so hard to swallow, hey!

I was born a rebel, down in Dixie

On a Sunday morning

Yeah with one foot in the grave

And one foot on the pedal, I was born a rebel

She picked me up in the mornin’, and she paid all my tickets

Then she screamed in the car

Left me out in the thicket

Well I never would’ve dreamed

That her heart was so wicked

Yeah but I keep comin’ back

Cause it’s so hard to kick it, hey, hey, hey

I was born a rebel, down in Dixie

On a Sunday morning

Yeah with one foot in the grave

And one foot on the pedal, I was born a rebel

Even before my father’s father

They called us all rebels

While they burned down our cornfields

And left our cities leveled

I can still feel the eyes of those blue-bellied devils

Yeah, when I’m walking ’round at night

Through the concrete and metal, hey, hey, hey

I was born a rebel, down in Dixie

On a Sunday morning

Yeah with one foot in the grave

And one foot on the pedal, I was born a rebel.”

Tom Petty, 1985

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