—Flatt and Scruggs
There's a big hollow tree down the road here from me
Where you lay down a dollar or two
You stroll 'round the bend and you come back again
There's a jug full of good old mountain dew
Chorus:
They call it that mountain dew
And them that refuse it are few
I'll hush up my mug if you fill up my jug
With that good old mountain dew
My uncle Mort, he's sawed off and short
He measures about four foot two
But he thinks he's a giant when you give him a pint
Of that good old mountain dew
Well, my old aunt June bought some brand new perfume
If had such a sweet smelling pew
But to her surprise when she had it analyzed
It was nothing but good old mountain dew
Well, my brother Bill's got a still on the hill
Where he runs off a gallon or two
The buzzards in the sky get so drunk they can't fly
From smelling that good old mountain dew
Verse and Chorus:
| I | I | IV | I |
| I | I | V | I |
Optional verses:
My aunt Lucille had an automobile,
It ran on a gallon or two.
It didn't need no gas and it didn't need no oil,
It just ran on that good old mountain dew.
I know a guy named Pete, his hair ain't so neat,
Though he fixes it with syrup and blue,
But it stays right in place when he uses just a trace
Of that good old mountain dew.
The preacher—he walked by, with a big tear in his eye
Said that his wife had the flu
And hadn't I ought just to give him a quart
Of that good old mountain dew
My uncle Klaus had a real mean old mouse
When they asked how it happened,
He said it was a lappin'
That good old mountain dew
You take a little trash and you mix it up with ash,
And you throw in the soul of a shoe,
Then you stir it awhile with an old rusty file,
And they call it that good old mountain dew.
During the last war, we couldn't get no more,
We didn't have no sugar for the dew
With a few old potaters and a few ripe tomaters,
We turned out some stuff, I'm tellin' you
Old Deacon Crane took a trip in the rain,
Said his wife had come down with the flu,
But she'll be all right if you give her a pint
Of that good old mountain dew.
Mr. Franklin Roosevelt, he told me how he felt
The day the old dry law went through:
If your likker's too red, it will swell up your head
Better stick to that good old mountain dew