Here I am standing firm,
As the ground shakes beneath me,
I send you away with my own hand.
I try and try to remember, that for now it's for the better,
But there's a Southern kind of tragic blowing in.
Oh it feels like the beginning of the end.
Well the Alabama moon fell from the sky,
And the sweet tea wells ran dry,
Somewhere out there you're finding yourself,
But back home it's the end of time.
I'm scared to death, pick up your phone,
Outside I hear the bells ringing,
Bringing ruin to all that we have ever known.
Pick up your phone, I need an answer,
Come home and call off disaster,
'Cause I fear tonight our Cotton Land might fall.
Oh I'm cracking like the plaster on the wall.
Oh the Alabama moon fell from the sky,
And the sweet tea wells ran dry,
Somewhere out there you're finding yourself,
But back home it's the end of time.
It's the end of time,
Is it the end of all time,
Or just the end of mine.
Well all of the cotton, it died in the fields,
The little babies cried the blue from their eyes,
Somewhere I'll bet you're living it up,
So come home before the end,
Well the Alabama moon fell from the sky,
And the sweet tea wells ran dry,
Somewhere out there you're finding yourself,
But back home it's the end of time.
Hey ey ey ey.
Come home, come home and be mine,
Come home, come home.
Ooh ooh ooh,
Ooh ooh ooh ooh,
Ooh ooh ooh,
Ooh ooh ooh ooh,
Ooh ooh ooh,
Ooh ooh ooh oooooh ooh.
