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  • (*O'Donnell, Dave Turnbull, J.R. Shelby)
    Me and my cousin Lendyl*
    Got lost hunting Coon
    In the Carolina Mountains
    Somewhere outside of Boone
    We were just about to panic
    When 'ol Lendyl saw the sign
    It said, "Come on in! The whiskey's fine."
    That old shack looked abandoned
    Roof all fallin' in
    Just some pertrified planks
    And some rusty ol' tin
    We both likely crapped our britches
    When a voice from inside
    Yelled, "Come on in! The whiskey's fine."
    Then those swinngin' doors opened
    He staggered out on the porch
    Dressed just like Davey Crocket
    Beard clear down to the floor
    He said, "The band's drunk, beer's skunked,
    And we ain't got no wine,
    But come on in! The whiskey's fine."
    We peeked in over his shoulder
    And the first thing that we saw
    Was a boy pickin' a banjo
    In a pair of overalls
    He said, "That boy is half crazy,
    Plays the same song all the time,
    But Hey come on in! The whiskey's fine."
    "The food will make you sick,
    The air will make you choke,
    The waitress ain't a-workin',
    And the Jukebox is broke."
    He said, "the band's drunk, beer's skunked,
    And we ain't got no wine,
    But come on in! The whiskey's fine."
    He said, "The pinballs won't roll,
    The pool-table rocks,
    And it hotter than two rats in heat,
    Inside an old wool sock."
    "I wouldn't drink the water,
    It tastes like turpentine,
    We're WAY overpriced,
    And a little hard to find."
    "The band's drunk, the beer's skunked,
    And we ain't got no wine,
    But come on in! The whiskey's fine."
    "Ya'll come on it! The whiskley's fine!"
    "Ya'll come on in!
    Aaawwww, The whiskley's fine!"
    "Hehehehe"
  • (*O'Donnell, Dave Turnbull, J.R. Shelby)
    Me and my cousin Lendyl*
    Got lost hunting Coon
    In the Carolina Mountains
    Somewhere outside of Boone
    We were just about to panic
    When 'ol Lendyl saw the sign
    It said, "Come on in! The whiskey's fine."
    That old shack looked abandoned
    Roof all fallin' in
    Just some pertrified planks
    And some rusty ol' tin
    We both likely crapped our britches
    When a voice from inside
    Yelled, "Come on in! The whiskey's fine."
    Then those swinngin' doors opened
    He staggered out on the porch
    Dressed just like Davey Crocket
    Beard clear down to the floor
    He said, "The band's drunk, beer's skunked,
    And we ain't got no wine,
    But come on in! The whiskey's fine."
    We peeked in over his shoulder
    And the first thing that we saw
    Was a boy pickin' a banjo
    In a pair of overalls
    He said, "That boy is half crazy,
    Plays the same song all the time,
    But Hey come on in! The whiskey's fine."
    "The food will make you sick,
    The air will make you choke,
    The waitress ain't a-workin',
    And the Jukebox is broke."
    He said, "the band's drunk, beer's skunked,
    And we ain't got no wine,
    But come on in! The whiskey's fine."
    He said, "The pinballs won't roll,
    The pool-table rocks,
    And it hotter than two rats in heat,
    Inside an old wool sock."
    "I wouldn't drink the water,
    It tastes like turpentine,
    We're WAY overpriced,
    And a little hard to find."
    "The band's drunk, the beer's skunked,
    And we ain't got no wine,
    But come on in! The whiskey's fine."
    "Ya'll come on it! The whiskley's fine!"
    "Ya'll come on in!
    Aaawwww, The whiskley's fine!"
    "Hehehehe"