Barchtown, Kentucky, in the middle of the 20s,
somewhere between heaven and hell
Great-granddaddy was a deacon, but he struggled breaking even,
till he started running bottles out the Bible Belt
Some called him a sinner, only knew him for his sins
Some called him a saint, because they knew went
They say, can’t ain’t works
But if ask morning in a brand-new church,
they’d say, the man the still and the holler, turning shine,
shine and water flowing milk and honey
Lord’s the devil’s money
whiskey in the cellar, him Rockefeller
You but isn’t good
an outlaw for pews and stained glass, a righteous redneck Robin Hood
They say, can’t ain’t works
But if ask morning in a brand-new
they’d say, the man the still and the holler, turning
shine and water flowing milk and honey
Lord’s the devil’s money
he his little light a little shine light the way?
Is he walking on the streets of gold, was hell to pay?
They say, can’t ain’t works
But if ask morning in a brand-new
they’d say, the man the still and the holler, turning
shine and water flowing milk and honey
Lord’s the devil’s money
Lord’s the devil’s money
