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rick pickren
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Alabama
Alabama, Alabama, We will aye be true to thee,
From thy Southern shores where groweth,
By the sea thy orange tree.
To thy Northern vale where floweth,
Deep blue the Tennessee,
Alabama, Alabama, we will aye be true to thee!
From thy prairies broad and fertile,
Where thy snow-white cotton shines,
To the hills where coal and iron
Hide in thy exausted mines,
Strong -armed miners -sturdy farmers;
Loyal hearts what'er we be,
Alabama, Alabama, we will aye be true to thee!
Where the perfumed south-wind whispers,
Thy magnolia groves among,
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Softer than a mother's kisses,
Sweeter than a mother's song,
Where the golden jasmine trailing,
Woos the treasure-laden bee,
Alabama, Alabama, we will aye be true to thee!
Brave and pure thy men and women,
Better this than corn and wine
Make us worthy, God in Heaven
Of this goodly land of Thine.
Hearts as open as thy doorways.
Liberal hands and spirits free.
Alabama, Alabama, we will aye be true to thee!
Alabama, Alabama, we will aye be true to thee!
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