Ballad of a Southern Man Karaoke - Whiskey Myers

This title is a cover of Ballad of a Southern Man as made famous by Whiskey Myers

Formats included:

CDG
MP4
WMV
KFN
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The CDG format (also called CD+G or MP3+G) is suitable for most karaoke machines. It includes an MP3 and synchronized lyrics.

This universal format works with almost any device (Windows, Mac, iPhone, iPad, Android, Connected TVs...)

This format is tailored for Windows Media Player which is setup by default on most Windows computers.

This format is suitable for KaraFun Player, a free karaoke software. It allows you to turn on or off the backing vocals, lead vocals, and change the pitch or tempo.

Your purchase allows you to download your video in all of these formats as often as you like.

About

With backing vocals (with or without vocals in the KFN version)

In the same key as the original: G

The song begins a cappella

Release date: 2011
Genres: Country, Rock, In English
Original songwriter: John Jeffers, Cody Cannon, Leroy Powell, Gary Brown

All files available for download are reproduced tracks, they're not the original music.

Lyrics Ballad of a Southern Man

My first rifle was a two fourty three
Papa gave Daddy and
Daddy gave to me
And they taught me how to shoot with a steady hand
I guess that's something you don't understand
Now I grew up on a prison farm
Sneaking pulls of shine from a mason jar
Used to go fishing out of pickle creek dam
But I guess that's something you don't understand
Grandma's in the kitchen
Papa's drunk past dawn
We sit out on the front porch
Just a pickin' on the songs
And there's blood on the table
'Cos we work for what we have
And I was raised in this land
I guess that's something you don't understand
I still fly that southern flag
Whistling Dixieland enough to brag
And I know all the words to Simple Man
I guess that's something you don't understand
I pledge my allegiance the original way
Say Merry Christmas not Happy Holidays
I can't change my ways
I know who I am
I guess that's something you don't understand
Grandma's in the kitchen
Papa's drunk past dawn
We sit out on the front porch
Just a pickin' on the songs
And there's blood on the table
'Cos we work for what we have
And I was raised in this land
I guess that's something you don't understand
They'll grind us up in a big machine
They'll feed us all on the same beliefs
Holy dollar and a credit card
But we got a way of doing things
And no banker's gonna steal from me
They wanna tear it all apart
Grandma's in the kitchen
Papa's drunk past dawn
We sit out on the front porch
Just a pickin' on the songs
And there's a Bible on the table 'cos he bled for what we have
And that's the ballad of a southern man
I guess that's something you don't understand
My first rifle was a two fourty three
Papa gave Daddy and
Daddy gave to me

Any reproduction is prohibited

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