Copperhead Road Dick Jr. & the Volunteers
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Copperhead Road" by Dick Jr. & the Volunteers. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Verse 1]
Well, my name's John Lee Pettimore
Same as my daddy and his daddy before
You hardly ever saw Grandaddy ’round here
He'd only come to town about twice a year
He'd buy a hundred pounds of yeast and some copper line
Everybody knew he was making moonshine
Now, the revenue man wanted Grandaddy bad
Headed up the holler with everything he had
Before my time, but I’ve been told
He never come back from Copperhead Road
[Verse 2]
Now, Daddy ran the whiskey in a big-block Dodge
Bought it at an auction at the Mason's Lodge
"Johnson County Sheriff" painted on the side
He just shot a coat of primer, then he looked inside
Well, him and my uncle tore that engine down
I still remember that rumblin' sound
When the Sheriff came around in the middle of the night
Heard Mama cryin', knew somethin' wasn't right
Headin' down to Knoxville with the weekly load
You could smell the whiskey burnin' down Copperhead Road
[Instrumental bridge]
Well, my name's John Lee Pettimore
Same as my daddy and his daddy before
You hardly ever saw Grandaddy ’round here
He'd only come to town about twice a year
He'd buy a hundred pounds of yeast and some copper line
Everybody knew he was making moonshine
Now, the revenue man wanted Grandaddy bad
Headed up the holler with everything he had
Before my time, but I’ve been told
He never come back from Copperhead Road
[Verse 2]
Now, Daddy ran the whiskey in a big-block Dodge
Bought it at an auction at the Mason's Lodge
"Johnson County Sheriff" painted on the side
He just shot a coat of primer, then he looked inside
Well, him and my uncle tore that engine down
I still remember that rumblin' sound
When the Sheriff came around in the middle of the night
Heard Mama cryin', knew somethin' wasn't right
Headin' down to Knoxville with the weekly load
You could smell the whiskey burnin' down Copperhead Road
[Instrumental bridge]
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