[Dark Outlaw Country, Southern Roots Rock - 102 BPM - Deep Baritone Male Vocal] [Verse 1] Down in the Carolina timber, where the pine trees lean, There’s a shack half-swallowed by the kudzu green, Camouflage on the back of a man gone hard, Haulin’ water by the light of a distant yard. Grains in a barrel, sugar stacked high, Pre-malted grains and a watchful eye, Fermentation vessel, bubbling black, One bad sound and you don’t come back. [Chorus] There’s a still down deep where the county don’t go, Fire burnin’ underneath that copper glow, Heat burner roar and the mash runs clear, Glass jars rattlin’ when the night draws near. We ain’t saints and we ain’t clean, We’re the meanest bunch the woods have seen, South Carolina, hear that outlaw cry— Pour another jar and let the whole world lie. [Verse 2] Old pickup buried where the pine roots grow, License plate covered and the headlights low, A rifle leans quiet by a rotten stump, While the fermentation vessel starts to thump. Sugar on the floor, water on the ground, Every hungry bottle makes a hungry sound, Still got scars from a raid years back, And a burned-out truck on an abandoned track. [Pre-Chorus] Somebody's watching from the tree line, Somebody's waiting for the wrong sign, One man whispers, “Kill that flame,” And nobody asks who came. [Chorus] There’s a still down deep where the county don’t go, Fire burnin’ underneath that copper glow, Heat burner roar and the mash runs clear, Glass jars rattlin’ when the night draws near. We ain’t saints and we ain’t clean, We’re the meanest bunch the woods have seen, South Carolina, hear that outlaw cry— Pour another jar and let the whole world lie. [Verse 3] They say the sheriff knows, but he never found the place, Just tire tracks swallowed by the mud and rain, They say a man disappeared past the county line, Left his name on a bottle and a debt behind. Camouflage jacket hanging from a crooked limb, A half-full jar sitting right beside him, No one knows if he ran or stayed, But the woods still remember every deal he made. [Bridge] Black pine shadows, red clay ground, A copper heart with a dangerous sound, Every jar got a story, every scar got a name, Every outlaw knows you can’t outrun flame. So hide that water, cover that grain, Keep one eye open when it starts to rain, 'Cause the law moves slow, but the law moves deep, And the secrets we bury don't always sleep. [Guitar Solo] [Final Chorus] There’s a still down deep where the county don’t go, Fire burnin’ underneath that copper glow, Heat burner roar and the mash runs clear, Glass jars rattlin’ when the night draws near. We ain’t saints and we ain’t clean, We’re the meanest bunch the woods have seen, South Carolina, hear that outlaw cry— Pour another jar and let the whole world lie. [Outro] Camouflage disappears where the pine trees close, Glass jar shines where the black creek flows, Water, grain, sugar, fire and steel— Everybody's got a secret they don't reveal. Down in the Carolina timber, That old still keeps runnin’... And nobody talks.
