There Ain’t No Land Like Dixieland to Me
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Say, tell me, doesn't that look like Dixieland?
Sure, that looks like Dixieland!
Doesn't that look like Alabam'?
Why, sure, that's Birmingham!
Is there any place so nice?
Do I have to ask you twice?
Yes, sir, yes, sir, that's my paradise!
And doesn't that smell like ham an' eggs?
No, that smells like bacon an' eggs
Bacon an' eggs, ham an' eggs
Oh, gee!
Mister Lindbergh may tarry
But I'm in God's own heaven, you see
And there ain't no land like Dixieland to me!