Papa Joe

Intro: | | Papa Joe lived in the backwoods, up on the Bacon Ridge Had himself a whole lotta whiskey burning from a home made copper still He carried that Whiskey in a big pine box in a Long black Cadillac Towns folk thought it was the local mortician With somebody laying in the back One day papa Joe and the preacher They were sipping on a Mason Jar When somebody down at the funeral parlour Drove away with the old man's car He was heading to the sunny side graveyard where everyone was gathered around By the time papa Joe and the preacher got there They had buried that box in the ground CHORUS Yes he carried that whisky in a big pine box In a long black Cadillac The towns folk though it was a local mortician With somebody laying in the back It was full of papa Joes white lighting It was better than the preachers wine It was 80 proof genuine, guaranteed to blow you mind Papa Joe's pure moonshine A little later on that evening Just as the sun went down Somebody caught old papa Joe He was digging that box from the ground Nobody said a word about But it should have made the front page news Rumour had it that the judge and the sheriff Started sipping on the ole man's brew REPEAT CHORUS