A Man Named Will Beck

One evening as a moonshiner laid in his room
Drinking himself to sleep
A dream came upon his eyes
Causing him to weep

It was all about a man named Will
A drinker from way back when
The liquor caused him to leave his home
And turn from all his friends

In this dream, poor Will did live
With nothing to ease the pain
But the whiskey that was sold to him
By the moonshiner every day

The moonshiner said, "Drinking's killing you
Why don't you give it up?"
Will replied, "I'm already dead."
As he raised his final cup

And he walked out on that farewell road
He tried to make it through
The coldest sky upon his eye
The moonshiner ever knew

Well, the devil's got a kind of fac
When the jug is in my hand
But I'm burning my still down just the same
And I'm leaving this lonesome land