| C | C7 | F | |
| I w | ish I was in the | land of cotton, | old times there are not forgotten, |
| C | G7 | C | |
| look | away, look away, look a | way Dixie | land. |
| C | C7 | F | |
| In Di | xieland where | I was born in, | early on one frosty morning, |
| C | G7 | C | |
| look | away, look away, look a | way Dixie | land. |
| Chorus: |
| C | F | D7 | G7 | |
| Then I | wish I was in | Dixie, hoo | ray, hoo | ray, |
| C | F | C | G7 | |
| In | Dixieland I'll | take my stand to | live and die in Dix | ie. |
| C | G7 | C | G7 | C | G7 | C | G7 | C | |
| A | way, a | way, a | way down south in | Dix | ie. Away, a | way, a | way down south in | Dix | ie |
| There's buckwheat cakes and Injun batter, makes you fat or a little fatter. |
| Look away, look away, look away Dixieland. |
| Then hoe it down and scratch your grabble, to Dixieland I'm bound to travel. |
| Look away, look away, look away Dixieland. |
| Chorus |