I was born and raised, a bootlegger's boy
In a Cherokee house, I plot my trade
In mountain city, a happy time
Just to make in money, on the moonshine

So I harbored load, in an Oxford town
I met me a gal and we knock around
But them Oxford girls can't leave you alone
I put my suit so fine and my bottle corn
I'm going back to mountain city
Where I can make another run
Load my trunk with old shine whiskey
I am afraid, bootlegger's son

So I sold that corn to the circus judge
On the public square, to me a ...
About a man with trouble, and the ...
With a drunken man, I commence to fight
Yeah 4-5 rounds and then I put them away
I hear the wicked jab from a razor blade
Have the women scream and the bottles broke
I'm ...ground, where the blood gets old
I'm going back to mountain city
Gonna make them revenues as rum
I killed a man in a field of whiskey
I am a cruel, bootlegger's son

And now I roam at night, just to hide my shame
I lost all my money, can't find a friend
I'm gonna track the bonds to the mountain side
Cause if corn don't kill me, I might never die

I'm going back to mountain city
Or else they'll hang me this I know
I killed a man in a field of whiskey
I am a cruel, bootlegger's son

I'm going back to mountain city
In a Cherokee house I started from
Go on home broke ain't it a pity
I am a cruel, bootlegger's son.