Corey, Corey

(albüm: At Large - 1959)

There's a pine log shack in the mountains. That's where my Corey dwells
She makes the finest mash liquor. What she doesn't drink she sells

Well, the first time I seen darling Corey she was weaving through the woods
With a kerosene lantern on her shoulder and a satchel full of goods

Please do drop down next Monday. Please bring me a jug or five
When the sun comes up on Tuesday don't figure to be alive

Don't care if you are living. Don't care if you are dead
If you're gonna drink my product then I'm gonna take your bread (Frail, pardner)

Well, the last time I seen darling Corey, she was wand'ring through the weeds
With a government man behind her. Gonna grab her for her deeds

Wake up, wake up, darling Corey. What makes you sleep so sound?
The revenue officer's a coming, gonna tear your still house down