Southern Belles
Brooks Walthall

Chorus:
I can hear those Southern Belles callin' me back home;
That sweet sound just follows me 'round wherever I go.
Hear them ring, hear them sing, can't you hear them moan?
Here we go, Ro Sham Bo, down to Thibadeaux; Down to Thibadeaux.

Louisiana moonlight is shining in her eyes;
She moves like sorghum ribboncane, as dark as the night sky.
Walking slow, hand in hand, spooning on the bayou;
Don't you worry your pretty self darlin', soon I'll be comin' home to you

Black Velvet evenings cruising with the top down;
Drive all night up to Mulatte's for that crazy Cajun sound
I can smell the dogwood trees breezin' off the river;
It aint that long since I been gone, but it seems like it's been forever.

I can hear those Southern Belles callin' me back home;
That sweet sound just follows me 'round wherever I go.
Hear them ring, hear them sing, can't you hear them moan?
Here we go, Ro Sham Bo, down to Thibadeaux; Down to Thibadeaux.

Sweet magnolia blossom with a voice like summer rain;
I remember deep southern nights goin' down on the Ponchetrain.
Love you like heat lightning; hot and hard and fast;
I've gone too far for a southern man, but not I'm comin' home at last.

I can hear those Southern Belles callin' me back home;
That sweet sound just follows me 'round wherever I go.
Hear them ring, hear them sing, can't you hear them moan?
Here we go, Ro Sham Bo, down to Thibadeaux; Down to Thibadeaux. (repeat)

Words and Music © by Brooks Walthall