My uncle, he ran mooshine whiskey,
Just like his father before,
And he found out the business was risky
When he wound up at St. Peter's door.

Runnin' moonshine his daddy made money,
Boy, he really looked sharp!
But it didn't set well with his his honey,
she'd nag and she'd moan and she'd harp.

He had an old hot rod Chevy,
The old wreck was fallin' apart.
His boss man would load her down heavy
And with a pop and a bang she'd start.

When his daddy would deliver corn liquor
He'd only just look straight ahead.
He met someone a bit quicker
And with a crash his daddy was dead.

Now you may think the story is over
But we ain't made it that far,
Before they called the police or his lover
His boss man unloaded the car.

My uncle didn't learn from this story,
He thought he'd really go far,
But for a job runnin' moonshine is sorry
And he died face down in a bar.