From the recording From the Stillhouse

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Bridge county, ‘41
Ain’t much use for a dead man’s son
My daddy ran and he skipped his bail
So they shot him twice, threw his ass in jail Poor boy

I found me a crook of land
Where the pines grow tall and the river bends Work that shovel like a poor ol’ mule
While the still blows smoke
like a rich perfume
It’s sweet like candy, cut like glass
Half that cup will knock you on your ass
Never had trouble squattin’ by these pines
’til I spot that Mr. sheriff walkin’ down the line Oh boy

He said, boy you know your still’s
sittin’ on my land
I said hold on now,
you ain’t give it a chance
Toss him a swig and when he tilts his head
I threw out my daddy’s colt
and filled him full of lead
Coughed up red and with his last breath
Said it’s not half bad but it ain’t the best
Well I know you is a liar but you ain’t no good
Cause that shit’s the best thing
from here to Collingwood
Poor boy

Bootleg Barney and the whiskey’s fine
I made a pretty little number
sellin’ all that shine
‘Til the market got slow and word got round
Said there’s another poor boy
sellin’ shine in town
I found him standin’ by the old ash woods
I cut that fucker down right where he stood
Never heard me comin’
‘til the bowie came down
Now he’s 28 years bleedin’ on the ground
Poor boy

Copper coil, copper twine
Copper veins for my bloodline
I feel it run all through the night
I’ll be shinin’ on this land
‘Til my bones turn into sand
Left in the dark, I’ll come to light
And if that sun don’t wanna shine
Honey, I might never die

The law found me in the middle of the night
When I’s lyin’ on my back
in the pale moonlight
Couldn’t tell if I was dead or alive
Until they caught that little hint of blood
in my eye
I grabbed the one on the right
with my blade on the left
And with the wrath of a god
and not an ounce of regret
I stuck him so damn deep
that when I looked at the other
He grabbed his pistol for a shot
I used the body for cover
And then daddy’s little colt
found him ‘tween the eyes
It’s the only thing he left me
but it sure is fine
Then they all start firing, catch me in the head
Bridge county’s own son might wake up dead
Poor boy