down south there s an old man lives on the corner of a street called main down south theres this old man and no one knows his name he plays a flat top made of plywood stops on a suit case he carries around buys new strings when he can living off the money from his last hoedown that old man may taste the bourbon and shine he may smell like musty gas and oil but find a good coon ride nothin better take it down south like this man s prose he ll sing take me back to virginia back before i had a name lay me in a golden field on a mountain side let the blue sky fill my veins let the chains carry me home and wash away all my sins like an old dog would i die where i began can you taste the dust in his words feel the earth of freshly turned fields can you smell the salt of her virgin shores hear him roar it ain t gonna yield well he s cruised those lines he s ridden those roads and he s roamed those hills but old time don t mean he ain t got a home well he fell into the bottle and out of her life and broke his own heart but since he s been singing for a place he calls home he ll sing take me back to virginia back before i had a name lay me in a golden field on a mountain side let the blue sky fill my veins let the chains carry me home and wash away all my sins like an old dog would i die where i began like an old dog would i die like an old dog would i die like an old dog would i die where i began