Got lost hunting Coon
In the Carolina Mountains
Somewhere outside of Boone
We were just about to panic
When 'ol Lendyl saw the sign
It said, [bad word] on in! The whiskey's fine."

That old shack looked abandoned
Roof all fallin' in
Just some pertrified planks
and [bad word] ol' tin
We both likely crapped our britches
when a voice from inside
yelled, [bad word] on in! The whiskey's fine."

Then those swinngin' doors opened
He staggered out on the porch
dressed just like Davey Crocket
Beard clear down to the floor
He said, "The band's [bad word]  beer's skunked,
and we ain't got no wine, [bad word] on in! The whiskey's fine."

We peeked in over his shoulder
And the first thing that we saw
Was a boy pickin' a banjo
In a pair of overalls
He said, "That boy is half crazy,
Plays the same song all the time,
But [bad word] on in! The whiskey's fine."

"The food will make you sick,
The air will make you choke,
The waitress ain't a-workin',
And the Jukebox is broke."

He said, "the band's [bad word]  beer's skunked,
And we ain't got no wine, [bad word] on in! The whiskey's fine."

He said, "The pinballs won't roll,
The pool-table rocks,
And it hotter than two rats in heat,
Inside an old wool sock."

"I wouldn't drink the water,
It tastes like turpentine,
we're WAY overpriced,
and a little hard to find."

"The band's [bad word]  the beer's skunked,
And we ain't got no wine, [bad word] on in! The whiskey's fine."
 [bad word] on it! The whiskley's fine!"
 [bad word] on in!

aawwww, The whiskley's fine!"

"hehehehe".