A Southern Thing Better Than Ezra

Kelly was a blackjack dealer
Living on the Gulf of Mexico
Kelly had a taste for guns and pills
He was looking for a mark to roll

Sara was a Kappa from Tulane
She was looking for a little change of pace
When a cop pulled them over on the interstate
Kelly blew that car away
(I heard them singing)

Gulf breeze on the porch
Me and my honey rocking back and forth
Light it up again with my kin and friends
Underneath a yellow moon
(It's a Gas)
Sweet dream New Orleans
Mississippi River running over me
Pretty Momma come and take me by the hand
Don't mock what you don't understand
It's a Southern Thing

Now when they held up a bank in Mobile
They finally made it on the evening news
She's a Georgia Peach never within reach
He's a felon from Baton Rouge
I heard Robert Johnson playing on a steel guitar
In the heat of the Delta sun
When Kelly drove them back up to Memphis
To finish what the King had once begun
(Come on and sing it now)