| Intro: C G Am F |
| C | Am | |
| Honey don't walk out I`m | too drunk to follow |
| C | Am | |
| You know you won't feel this | way tomorrow |
| F | G | |
| Well - m | aybe I'm a little ro | ugh around the edges |
| F | G | |
| Inside a little | hollow |
| F | G | |
| I get faced with | somethings sometimes |
| F | G | Am | |
| That are s | o hard to swallow - | Hey ! |
| Chorus: |
| C | |
| I was born a | rebel |
| Am | C | |
| Down in | Dixie on a Sunday | morning |
| F | G | |
| Yeah - with | one foot in the | grave |
| F | G | |
| And | one foot on the | pedal |
| Am | |
| I was born a | rebel. |
| Well she picked me up in the morning |
| And she payed out my ticket |
| Yeah she screamed in the car |
| And threw me out in the thicket |
| Well - I never would've dreamed |
| That her heart was so wicked |
| Oh - but I keep coming back |
| 'Cos it's so hard to kick it. |
| Chorus |
| Even before my father's fathers |
| They called us all rebels |
| Burned our cornfields |
| And left our cities level |
| I can still see the eyes |
| Of those blue bellied devils |
| When I'm walking round tonight |
| Through the concrete and metal. |