I won't be soothed until
Georgia Brown calls me her son again.
I won't be soothed until

that sweet clarinet hums again.
I could use a smoother kind of tempo
to lead to my crescendos

and navigate the songs that I pen.
Dixieland, I'm coming home to you again.


SCAT SOLO !#$*ES

I can hear the tubas in the distance

every time I listen,
I just never thought that we could be friends.
Dixieland, I'm coming home to you.


Stereotypical as I am,
I couldn't help but try and

the least that I could do is pretend.
Dixieland, I've never actually been there,
but I'm coming home to you again.