Well, my name's John Lee Pettimore,
Same as my daddy and his daddy's before.
Everybody knew that he made moonshine.
Now the revenue man wanted granddaddy bad.
Headed up the holler with everything he had.
Before my time, but I've been told.
You never come back from Copperhead Road.
Granddaddy ran whiskey in a big black Dodge
Bought it at an auction at the Mason's Lodge
I still remember that rumbling sound
Then the sheriff came around in the middle of the night
Heard mama crying that something wasn't right
He was headed down to Knoxville with the weekly load
You could smell the whisky burning down Copperhead Road.
I volunteered for the army on my birthday
They draft the white trash first, round hear anyway
I'd plant it up the holler down Copperhead Road
Now the D.E.A.'s got a chopper in the air
I wake up screamin, like I'm back over there
I learned a thing or two from Charlie don't you know.
You better stay away from Copperhead Road.