Tennessee Moonshine

Well, deep in the holler where the pine trees stand,

There's a secret runnin' through this rugged land.

Granddaddy’s still hums, hot and true,

Brewing up fire ‘neath the southern blue.

Oh, Tennessee moonshine, it burns real slow,

In a mason jar, it’s all we know.

Lightnin’ in a bottle from a timeworn hand,

The spirit of the hills, it’ll make you a man.

Mama says it’s trouble, but I don’t mind,

A little taste of freedom in that old white wine.

Got the law on the ridge, but they won’t find,

This river of gold, this Tennessee shine.

Oh, Tennessee moonshine, it burns real slow,

In a mason jar, it’s all we know.

Lightnin’ in a bottle from a timeworn hand,

The spirit of the hills, it’ll make you a man.

Through smoky nights and bluegrass tunes,

‘Round the fire glow beneath the moon.

We sip on history, sweet and fine,

Raising a toast to that Tennessee shine.

Oh, Tennessee moonshine, it burns real slow,

In a mason jar, it’s all we know.

Lightnin’ in a bottle from a timeworn hand,

The spirit of the hills, it’ll make you a man.