To the man that waited on me at the Starbucks down on Main, I hope you understand
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When I put on that t-shirt, the only thing I meant to say is I’m a Skynyrd fan
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The red flag on my chest somehow is like the elephant in the corner of the south
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And I just walked him right in the room
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Just a proud rebel son with an ‘ol can of worms
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Lookin’ like I got a lot to learn but from my point of view
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I’m just a white man comin’ to you from the southland
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Tryin’ to understand what it’s like not to be
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I’m proud of where I’m from but not everything we’ve done
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And it ain’t like you and me can re-write history
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Our generation didn’t start this nation
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We’re still pickin’ up the pieces, walkin’ on eggshells, fightin’ over yesterday
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And caught between southern pride and southern blame
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They called it Reconstruction, fixed the buildings, dried some tears
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We’re still siftin’ through the rubble after a hundred-fifty years
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I try to put myself in your shoes and that’s a good place to begin
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But it ain’t like I can walk a mile in someone else’s skin
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‘Cause I’m a white man livin’ in the southland
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Just like you I’m more than what you see
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I’m proud of where I’m from but not everything we’ve done
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And it ain’t like you and me can re-write history
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Our generation didn’t start this nation
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And we’re still paying for mistakes
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That a bunch of folks made long before we came
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And caught between southern pride and southern blame
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Dear Mr. White Man, I wish you understood
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What the world is really like when you’re livin’ in the hood
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Just because my pants are saggin’ doesn’t mean I’m up to no good
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You should try to get to know me, I really wish you would
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Now my chains are gold but I’m still misunderstood
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I wasn’t there when Sherman’s March turned the south into firewood
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I want you to get paid but be a slave I never could
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Feel like a new fangled Django, dodgin’ invisible white hoods
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So when I see that white cowboy hat, I’m thinkin’ it’s not all good
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I guess we’re both guilty of judgin’ the cover not the book
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I’d love to buy you a beer, conversate and clear the air
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But I see that red flag and I think you wish I wasn’t here
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I’m just a white man
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(If you don’t judge my do-rag)
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Comin’ to you from the southland
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(I won’t judge your red flag)
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Tryin’ to understand what it’s like not to be
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I’m proud of where I’m from
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(If you don’t judge my gold chains)
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But not everything we’ve done
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(I’ll forget the iron chains)
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it ain’t like you and me can re-write history
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(Can’t re-write history baby)
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Oh, Dixieland
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(The relationship between the Mason-Dixon needs some fixin’)
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I hope you understand what this is all about
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(Quite frankly I’m a black Yankee but I’ve been thinkin’ about this lately)
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I’m a son of the new south
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(The past is the past, you feel me)
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And I just want to make things right
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(Let bygones be bygones)
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Where all that’s left is southern pride
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(RIP Robert E. Lee but I’ve gotta thank Abraham Lincoln for freeing me, know what I mean)
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It’s real, it’s real
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It’s truth
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Accidental Racist
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| Brad Paisley |
