[Verse 1] He's running down a dusty road In his two door hot rod v eight Ford The revenue men are hot on his tail They are determined take him to jail [Verse 2] Hauling shine in the Appalachian hills They've Been trying to shutdown his stills Sliding through the curves at top speed It seems he's the last of a dying breed [Chorus] So he's running shine in the backwoods He's hauling the last load of his goods Must make this sale so that he can retire They destroyed his still with a large fire He has a fifty gallon load in the tanks Dust is so bad the revenuer hit a bank Just twenty mile to go and a big lead His forehead is covered eith sweat beeds [Bridge] He wants to be free of this way of life There's just too much worry and strife The thrill of the chase is long sense gone It way past time for him to be moving on [Guitar solo] [Verse 3] He pulls into the drop to drain his tanks So he switches out cars heads to bank With a wad of cash and time to spare He stops for a drink on his way there [Verse 4] The cops go zipping by looking mad It seems they are really wanting him bad But the evidence has already been destroyed They have never seen his face such a void [Chorus] [Verse 5] And so it would seem that he's home free So now he doesn't have to try to flee With a truck driving job already lined up I guess the revenuers are just out of luck [Chorus] [Fade to end]
