Bootleg John
In the land of Breathed County was raised a crooked man
Made the county dry and the prices high
For the bootleg whiskey man
His age was barely twenty-one, his family was ashamed
They had a son who left his home
For a bootleg whiskey game
Bootleg John won't you come on home
Your family's all alone
You're runnin' wild and your baby child
Wants his daddy home
His wife she loved hime dearly tho' he seldom came around
She'd always cry when he said goodbye
But she never could hold him down
Twelve pistols in his pocket his shotgun on the floor
He made his run to Lexington
To the bootleg whiskey store
His car was full of whiskey, his hand was on his gun
He was set to go but he didn't know
He was makin' his last run
The sheriff pulled him over and he shot the lawman down
They locked him well in the county jail
And the jailer slapped him down
John do Contrabando
Na terra do Condado de Breathed nasceu um homem torto
Deixou o condado seco e os preços nas alturas
Por causa do contrabando de uísque
Ele mal tinha vinte e um, sua família estava envergonhada
Tiveram um filho que deixou seu lar
Por causa do jogo do contrabando de uísque
John do contrabando, não quer voltar pra casa?
Sua família tá sozinha
Você tá se perdendo e seu filhote
Quer o pai de volta
A esposa dele o amava muito, embora ele raramente aparecesse
Ela sempre chorava quando ele dizia adeus
Mas nunca conseguiu segurá-lo
Doze pistolas no bolso, a espingarda no chão
Ele fez sua corrida pra Lexington
Pra loja de uísque contrabandeado
O carro dele tava cheio de uísque, a mão na arma
Ele tava pronto pra ir, mas não sabia
Que era sua última corrida
O xerife parou ele e ele atirou no policial
O trancafiaram bem na cadeia do condado
E o carcereiro o esbofeteou.