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Cool and cloudy nights upon Boll Mountain, Alabama
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I was stealing corn from Homer Lawson’s field
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The rattle of the cornstalks and the bark of Homer’s hound dog
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Made me hug the ground and lie dead still
Flashin’ through my mind was Big Homer’s reputation
A man who really didn’t give a damn
They say he shot ol’ Mountain Joe for just one ear of corn
And laughed the day they laid him in the ground
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Well I can hear the breaking of the sticks from someone’s footsteps
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But shaky legs just can’t get up and run
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And as I lay there breathless the next thing I expected
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Was a blast of hell from Homer Lawson’s gun
The clouds rolled by and then I saw the shadow of a lady
It was Homer’s lovely daughter Julie Ann
I smelled the perfume in her hair as she sat down beside me
Whispered Papa’s running moonshine again
I thank God for cloudy nights and Alabama’s whiskey stills
And harvest time in Homer Lawson’s field
I thank God for cloudy nights and Alabama’s whiskey stills
And harvest time in Homer Lawson’s field