Dooley was a good ole man He lived below the mill Dooley had two daughters And a forty-gallon still One gal watched the boiler The other watched the spout And mama corked the bottles And ole Dooley fetched 'em out. Dooley slippin' up the holler Dooley try to make a dollar Dooley give me a swaller And I'll pay you back someday. The revenuers came for him A-sippin' though the woods Dooley kept behind them all And never lost his goods Dooley was a trader When into town he'd come Sugar by the bushel And molasses by the ton. Dooley slippin' up the holler Dooley try to make a dollar Dooley gimme a swaller And I'l pay you back someday. I remember very well The day ole Dooley died The women folk weren't sorry And the men stood round and cried Now Dooleys on the mountain He lies there all alone They put a jug beside him And a barrel for his stone. Dooley slippin' up the holler Dooley try to make a dollar Dooley gimme a swaller And I'll pay you back someday.
Written by: M. JAYNE, R. DILLARD
Lyrics © LYNNE GREEN-MELINCOFF D/B/A HOFFMAN HOUSE MUSIC
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