1. Come all you booze fighters,
  if you want to hear
'Bout the kind of liquor
  that they sell around here.
It's made way back in the lonesome hills,
Where there's plenty of moonshine stills.

2. One drop'll make a rabbit lick a hound dog,
Hit'll make a rat whup a wild hog,
Make a mouse bite off a tom cat's tail,
Make a tadpole raise a fuss with a whale.

3. Make a fice dog bite off a elephant's snout,
Make a poodle dog put a tiger to rout,
Make a toad frog spit in a black snake's face,
Make a hard-shell preacher fall from grace.

4. Hit'll make a lamb lie down with a lion,
After drinking that old moonshine,
Just throw back your head
  and take a little drink,
And for a week you won't be able to think.

5. Then you take just another little bit,
And get ready to have a fit.
First thing you know
  you're feeling mighty tight,
Out on the street, trying to raise a fight.

6. Then you begin to get awfully sick,
And you feel worse than the very old nick.
You say that you never will drink it any more,
But you've said that a hundred times before.

7. The bootleggers is a-getting mighty thick,
And the blockaders is a-getting mighty slick.
If they keep on, badges they'll have to wear,
To keep from selling to each other, I declare.