Baby pack your things in a pickup truck We're getting out of this town There's too many people saying too many things Too many things to get around I met a young man down in New Orleans Where the sky is blue and the trees are green He told me bout a shack by the riverside With a welcome mat outside Where the whiskey flows and moonlight glows Breezes blow through the cotton groves And the sand squishes out from between your toes Think that's where I want to go And the millions call to me And the millions call to me Don't sell your house down in New Orleans There's a fortune in gold down there Spend a little time in the winter sun We have but a second to spare You say you've had enough of the life you know Take you to a place where the time moves slow Where the sand squishes out from between your toes Think that's where I want to go And the millions call to me And the millions call to me