It’s a jungle out there
The birds sound like monkeys
There’s static in the sidewalk
A man can’t even talk

But down in Chulahoma
The breezes kiss the kudzu
You can hear a freight train roll
For a thousand miles

In a little country cabin
In a wooded dog-leg highway
Where the music flows like moonshine
And the whiskey tastes like rain

Yeah down in Chulahoma
The breezes kiss the kudzu
You can hear a freight train roll
For a thousand miles

I dream of Chulahoma
And the people that I loved there
And the music that they made there
And they way things got to change