She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand She said, "I'm gonna find me a Georgia man" She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand Listen to me, brother, I ain't telling you wrong I'm gonna make Georgia my permanent home This here is a story 'bout Rebecca St. Claire Always was a loser in the game of double dare Someone bet her that she couldn't fly like a pelican She jumped off of a parking deck and wrecked her curly hair Scrape her off the sidewalk and put her in the ground She rose up from the dirt and she was dirt-road bound She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand She said, "I'm gonna find me a Georgia man" She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand Listen to me, brother, I ain't telling you wrong I'm gonna make Georgia my permanent home She came upon a mansion that had seen the Civil War She pulled away to curtsy from the charred front door Floated up the stairs, brandishing a torch Opened up the window and climbed on the front porch Closed her empty eyes like Athena leading prayer Jumped off of the railing and became the Georgia air She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand She said, "I'm gonna find me a Georgia man" She came from Alabama with a rose in her hand Listen to me, brother, I ain't telling you wrong I'm gonna make Georgia my permanent home Listen to me, brother, I ain't telling you wrong I'm gonna make Georgia my permanent home