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