Bad Whiskey
Bad whiskey killed young Tom Greene
Bad whiskey from the still
From out behind the chicken shack
Just atop the hill
His friends were coming over
Like they would to quench their thirst
Before any of ‘em showed up
Tom thought he’d taste some first

Tom Greene, he was well liked
Even by the law
Oh sure, he had his run ins
But no real character flaws
The sherif kept the keys
To the lockup on the table
Where a sober man could reach ‘em
Just as soon as he was able

Bad whiskey killed young Tom Greene
He cooked the stuff himself
He’d gotten into bottling it
For everybody else
They don’t know what got into it
Or how long it took to die
His thirsty friends, they found him
When they came for their supply
Tom Greene’s whiskey
Put a good shine on the moon
They kept some underneath the counter
In all the reputable saloons

Some nights there’ll be a light on
In Tom Greene’s old little shack
Smoke comes from the chimney
The snow won’t have any tracks
There’s been no investigation
The sherif, he won’t step inside
They say the man went sober
The day young Tom Greene died

Bad whiskey killed young Tom Greene
Though his was usually good
People’d come from miles around
To get some if they could
But ever since Tom left us
Most folks have dumped their stash
The odd bottle that might turn up
Will still fetch a bunch of cash

Tom Green’s whiskey
Put a good shine on the moon
They kept some underneath the counter
In all the reputable saloons