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Credits
PERFORMING ARTISTS
Brad Paisley
Electric Guitar
Eric Darken
Percussion
Kevin "Swine" Grantt
Bass Guitar
Justin Williamson
Fiddle
Ben Sesar
Drums
Gary Hooker
Acoustic Guitar
Randle Currie
Steel Guitar
Kendal Marcy
Banjo
Randy Owen
Vocals
Wes Hightower
Background Vocals
Carl Jackson
Background Vocals
Teddy Gentry
Vocals
Jeff Cook
Vocals
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Brad Paisley
Songwriter
Dave Turnbull
Songwriter
Chris DuBois
Songwriter
Randy Owen
Songwriter
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Frank Rogers
Producer
Brady Barnett
Editing Engineer
Brian David Willis
Engineer
Brian Willis
Editing Engineer
David Schoeber
Engineer
Drew Bollman
Overdub Engineer
Hank Hiriam Williams
Mastering Engineer
Jason Lehning
Editing Engineer
Jeff Balding
Overdub Engineer
Luke Wooten
Mixing Engineer
Neal Cappellino
Editing Engineer
Phillip Stein
Editing Engineer
Richard Barrow
Engineer
Tyler Moles
Editing Engineer
Lyrics
She'd rather wear a pair of cut-off jeans
Than a fancy evenin' dress
And with her windows rolled down
And her hair blown all around
She's a hot southern mess
She'll take a beer over white wine
A campfire over candlelight
And when it comes to love
Oh, her idea of a romantic night
Is listenin' to old Alabama, drivin' through Tennessee
A little dixieland delight at the right time of the night
And she can't keep her hands off of me
And now we're rollin' down an old back road
I got the steering wheel in one hand
We'll find a hideaway where she and I can play
In mother nature's band
Now we're listenin' to old Alabama
Parked somewhere in Tennessee
A little dixieland delight and it feels so right
And it's love in the first degree
Forget about Sinatra or Coltrane
Or some ol' righteous brothers song
Even Barry White ain't gonna work tonight
If you really wanna turn her on
Play some back home, come on music
That comes from the heart
Play something with lots of feeling
'Cause that's where music has to start
Now we're listenin' to old Alabama
And we're drivin' through Tennessee
A little dixieland delight and it feels so right
And it's love in the first degree
Yeah, you know we're listenin' to old Alabama (old Alabama)
Drivin' through Tennessee (Tennessee)
A little why lady, why, at the right time of the night
Oh, and she can't keep her hands off of me, me, me
Oh, play me some old Alabama
Oh, play me some old Alabama
Won't you play me some old Alabama?
Oh, play
Yee-haw
So the one you loved just left you for another
And you're down
Or you lost your job and you need a drink
You look around and start to think
That no one understands what you been through
Writer(s): Dave Turnbull, Brad Paisley, Randy Owen, Charles Du Bois
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