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Well my name's

John Lee Pettimore,

same as my daddy and

his daddy before.

You hardly ever saw

Grandaddy down here,

he only came to town

about twice a year.

He'd buy a hundred pounds of

yeast and some copper line,

everybody knew that

he made moonshine.

Now the revenue man

wanted Grandaddy bad,

he headed up the holler

with everything he had.

It's before my time

but I've been told

he never came back

from Copperhead Road.

Now Daddy ran the whiskey

in a big block Dodge,

bought it at an auction

at the Mason's Lodge.

Johnson County Sheriff

painted on the side,

just shot a coat of primer

then he looked inside.

Well him and my uncle

tore that engine down,

I still remember that

rumblin' sound.

Well the sheriff came around

in the middle of the night,

heard mama cryin' and knew

something wasn't right.

He was headed down to Knoxville

with the weekly load,

you could smell the whiskey burnin'

down Copperhead Road.

I volunteered for the

Army on my birthday,

they draft the white trash

first 'round here anyway.

I done two tours

of duty in Vietnam,

and I came home with

a brand new plan.

I take the seed from

Colombia and Mexico,

I plant it up the holler

down Copperhead Road.

Well the D.E.A.'s

got a chopper in the air,

I wake up screaming like

I'm back over there.

I learned a thing or two

from ol' Charlie, don't you know.

You better stay away

from Copperhead Road.

Copperhead Road...