[Verse 1] Moon’s hangin’ low over Yellville ridge, wind talkin’ soft through the laurel bridge. I pour one out slow for the ones gone before, the oath-keepers sleepin’ behind Granny’s door. Jug’s half empty, but the night’s still young, and the mountain keeps hummin’ its lonesome song. [Chorus] So pass me the jug and I’ll pick you a tune, old banjar sings low ’neath the Arkansas moon. We’ll tell of the Granny who guards what she keeps, and the fools who lie down where the eagles sleep. Some stories end quiet, some never do— here’s to the tellers, me and you. [Verse 2] I’ve walked many trails, but I never climb high, past the place where the cold creeks run dry. Seen the porch light flicker where no light should be, heard a soft foot tappin’ a jig just for me. I tip my hat low and I turn back down, ’cause some legends don’t need another soul found. [Chorus] So pass me the jug and I’ll pick you a tune, old banjar sings low ’neath the Arkansas moon. We’ll tell of the Granny who guards what she keeps, and the fools who lie down where the eagles sleep. Some stories end quiet, some never do— here’s to the tellers, me and you. [Verse 3] When the fire burns low and the embers glow red, we’ll pack up our tales and head off to bed. But the mountain stays watchful, the oath still holds true, and Christmas’ll bring shine for the faithful few. So raise up your glass to the ones who stayed wise— may we never join rows ’neath them cold gray skies. [Final Chorus — slow fade, let the banjo ring] Pass me the jug one more time, my friend, let the banjar sing soft till the night reaches end. We told of the Granny, the gold, and the gun, now the legend lives on when the tellin’ is done. Some stories end quiet… and some never do.
