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
And 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 [bad word] to all that we have ever known
Pick up your phone
I need an [bad word] home and call off disaster
'Cause I fear tonight our Cotton Land might fall
Oh I'm cracking like the plaster on the wall

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

It's the end of time
Is it the end of all time
Or just the end of mine

Well all of the cotton died in the fields
The little babies cried the blue from their eyes
Somewhere I'll bet you're living it up [bad word] home before the end

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 [bad word] home and be [bad word] home [bad word] home