Sawmill

(альбом: The Great Divide - 2011)

Papaw followed the timber in 1929
With seven hungry children
He was working all the time
Daddy was the middle son
Tough as a fire plug
That's why Papaw chose him
To carry the water jug

Drink, drink, drink from the cup
Here's a little mud in your eye
Drink, drink fill her back up
Never let the jug run dry

The woods of Sylacauga
Is where they pitched their tent
Amidst lumberjacks and loggers
Worked hard for every cent
One day while hauling water
On the rounds he made
He watched a man get split in two
Who was careless with the blade

Drink, drink, drink from the cup
Here's a little mud in your eye
Drink, drink fill her back up
Never let the jug run dry
Never let the jug run dry

As I look back I still recall
That everywhere he'd go
He always kept a water jug
Made sure he kept it full
Daddy loved to tell the tale
It never did get old
Visions of dead lumberjacks
Still make my flood run cold

Drink, drink, drink from the cup
Here's a little mud in your eye
Drink, drink fill her back up
Never let the jug run dry
Never let the jug run dry