There's a porch swing in Tupelo In the shade of the south Where the sweet honey drips off that old hush-yo'-mouth It's a slow road on down That old Natchez Trace Through Alabama cotton fields to a state of grace It's a crisp golden Autumn On the Tennessee line Rolling down to Mississippi like you headed back in time Town's closed on Sunday Everybody's in church It's empty as the moon this place here on earth
And this place don't change Some places move slow I'm just rocking myself on this porch swing in Tupelo I got nothing to do 'cept hang in the breeze Ghosts of the old south are all around me Yea swing high, yea swing low Here on this porch swing in Tupelo
His mama must have loved him That truck drivin' boy With the grease monkey look and the rock 'n roll voice Well I was just thinkin' 'bout him 'Cause I guess he sat here Singing all praise to God through poverty's tears
And this place don't change Some places move slow I'm just rocking myself on this porch swing in Tupelo I got nothing to do 'cept hang in the breeze Ghosts of the old south are all around me Yea swing high, yea swing low Here on this porch swing in Tupelo
And this place don't change Some places move slow I'm just rocking' myself on this porch swing in Tupelo I got nothing to do 'cept hang in the breeze Ghosts of the old south are all around me Yea swing high, yea swing low Here on this porch swing in Tupelo
And this place don't change Some places move slow I'm just rocking' myself on this porch swing in Tupelo I got nothing to do but hang in the breeze The ghosts of the old south all around me Yea swing high, yea swing low On this porch swing in Tupelo
