In North Carolina, way back in the hills,
there lived my Pappy and he had him a still.
He brewed white lightning till the sun was down,
and then he'd fill him a jug, and pass it around.
Mighty, mighty pleasin', my Pappy's corn squeezin'
whew, white Lightning.
searchin' for the place where he made his brew.
They were lookin', tryin' to book him,
But my Pappy kept on cookin' white Lightning.
#2.
I asked my Pappy why he called his brew
white lightning, instead of mountain dew.
I took one sip and then I knew,
as my eyes bugged out and my face turned blue.
Lightnin' started flashin', thunder started clashin'
wsssshhhh white Lightning.
searchin' for the place where he made his brew.
They were lookin', tryin' to book him,
But my Pappy kept on cookin' wsssshhh white Lightning.
#3.
A city slicker came, and said, "I'm tough
I think I wanna taste that powerful stuff.'
He took one slug and he drank it right down,
and I heard him a-moanin' as he hit the ground
'Mighty, mighty, pleasin', your Pappy's corn squeezin'
wssssshhhh White Lightning.
searchin' for the place where he made his brew.
They were lookin', tryin' to book him,
But my Pappy kept on cookin' wsssshh white Lightning.