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My Daddy played poker on a stump in the woods back in his younger days |
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Prohibition was the talk, but the rich folks walked to the woods where my Daddy stayed |
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Jugs and jars from shiners, these old boys here, they ain't miners |
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They came from the twenty-niners |
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It didn't take a hole in the ground to put the bottom in their face |
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Back in the thirties when the dust bowl dried |
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And the woods in Alabama didn't see no light |
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My Daddy played poker by a hard wood fire |
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Squeezing all his luck from a hot copper wire |
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Scrap like a wildcat fights till the end |
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Trap a wildcat and take his skin |
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Deal from the bottom, put the ace in the hole |
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One hand on the jug but you never do know |
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Son come running |
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You better come quick |
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This rotgut moonshine is making me sick |
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Your Mama called the law and they're gonna take me away |
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Down so far even the Devil won't stay |
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Where I call to the Lord with all my soul |
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I can hear him rattling the chains on the door |
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He couldn't get in I could see he tried |
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Through the shadows of the cage around the forty watt light |
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Daddy tell me another story |
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Tell me about the lows and the highs |
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Tell me how to tell the difference between what they tell me is the truth or a lie |
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Tell me why the ones who have so much make the ones who don't go mad |
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With the same skin stretched over their white bones and the same jug in their hand |
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My Daddy played poker on a stump in the woods back when the world was gray |
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Before black and white went and chose up sides and gave a little bit of both their way |
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The only blood that's any cleaner is the blood that's blue or greener |
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Without either you just get meaner and the blood you gave gives you away |
