Vari-Colored Song

If I had a heart of gold,
As have some folks I know,
I’d up and sell my heart of gold
And head North with the dough.

But I don’t have a heart of gold.
My heart’s not even lead.
It’s made of plain old Georgia clay.
That’s why my heart is red.

I wonder why red clay’s so red
And Georgia skies so blue.
I wonder why it’s yes to me,
But yes, sir, sir, to you.

I wonder why the sky’s so blue
And why the clay’s so red.
Why down South is always down,
And never up instead.