"Bootlegger's Boy"

I was born and raised
bootlegger's boy
In the Cherokee hills
I plied my trade
In Mountain City
I had me a time
Just a-makin' money
On the corn moonshine

Well I hauled my load
Into Knoxville town
I met me a girl
And we knocked around
Well them Knoxville girls
Couldn't leave me alone
With my suit so fine
And my bottle of corn

I'm goin' back to Mountain City
So I can make [bad word] Load my [bad word] with my moonshine whisky
I am a brave bootlegger's son

Well I sold that corn
To the circuit judge
On the public square
To many a tramp
Well I met with trouble
On the tracks one night
With a [bad word] man [bad word] to fight

We fought five rounds
Then I put him away
With a wicked jab
From a razor blade
How the women screamed
And the bottles broke
On the stony ground
Where the blood did flow

I'm goin' back to Mountain City
The deed I done they'll never know
I killed a man in a fuel of whisky
I am [bad word] bootlegger's boy

Now I hang my head
Just to hide my shame
Lost all my money
Can't find a friend
I'm gonna drag my bones
To the mountainside
If the corn don't kill me
I might never die

I'm goin' back to Mountain City
Or else they'll hang me this I know
I killed a man in a feud of whisky,
I am a [bad word] Bootlegger's boy.

I'm goin' back to Mountain City
In the Cherokee hills I started from
Goin' home broke, ain't it a pity
Lord curse [bad word] bootlegger's son