Lyrics:
a vast high powered rocket to the core of the sun
Want to read books in the studies of men
Born on the breeze and die on the wind
If I was an artist
a vast high powered rocket to the core of the sun
Want to read books in the studies of men
Born on the breeze and die on the wind
If I was an artist
Oh, oh my darling
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah
The artist pays the price
So you won't have to pay
If only we would listen
To what they have to say
Oh, oh my darling
Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah
The artist pays the price
So you won't have to pay
If only we would listen
To what they have to say
And the men who hold high places
Must be the ones who start
To mold a new reality
Closer to the heart
Closer to the heart
The blacksmith
And the men who hold high places
Must be the ones who start
To mold a new reality
Closer to the heart
Closer to the heart
The blacksmith
Well, I asked my old pappy why he called his brew
White lightnin' 'stead of mountain dew
I took a little sip and right away I knew
As my eyes bugged
Well, I asked my old pappy why he called his brew
White lightnin' 'stead of mountain dew
I took a little sip and right away I knew
As my eyes bugged
Bring me men, bring me men to match my mountains
Bring me men, bring me men to match my plains
Men with Empires
Men with Empires in their purpose
And then he'd fill him a jug
And he'd pass it around
Mighty, mighty pleasin'
You're pappy's corn squeezin'
White lightning
Yeah, the G-Men, T-Men
From a shack by a mountain stream
To a room in New Orleans
So far from my Blue Ridge Mountain home
The men I meet ain't warm and friendly
(Dolly Parton)
From a shack by a mountain stream
To a room in New Orleans
So far from my Blue Ridge Mountain home
The men I meet ain't warm
hole
Way down in the bottom of a mountain
Way down in the bottom of a hole
Way down in the bottom of a mountain
I'm digging and a shoveling
Wooh!
The artist pays the price
So you won't have to pay
If only you would listen
To what he has to say
There are songs of wisdom
There are songs
fill him a jug and he'd pass it around
Mighty, mighty pleasin, pappy's corn squeezin'
White lightnin'
Well the G men, T men, revenuers, too
Searchin'
Yeah we gotta try and find a way
Bouncin' around the mountains day to day
Oh crazy mountain, they named you well
White men and red men
Stories that we
His mind is up his sleeve
And his talk is make believe
Oh, Lord, the man's a fraud
He's a flim flam man
He's an artist
He's a flim flam man
He's
asked my old pappy
Why he called his brew
White lightnin' 'stead of mountain dew
I took a little sip and right away I knew
As my eyes bugged out and my
Morning fields of amber gray
Weathered faces lined in pain
Are soothed beneath the artist's loving hand
Now I understand
What you tried to say to me
Soon the men, they gonna need ya
Gotta use the method right now
Gonna use the men, gonna kill 'em
When nobody seem to know how
Men in black, they
lightnin'
Well I asked my old pappy why he called his brew
White lightnin' 'stead of mountain dew
I took a little sip and right away I knew
As my eyes
your honest men?
In some village, far away,
Or in a little town pub.
High on a mountain top
There must be an honest man
Calling all honest men
we're gonna play
Just bouncin' around the mountains day to day
Oh crazy mountain, they named you well
White men and red men, stories we heard tell
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