Uncle Ben's Remedy - Bootlegger

What you gonna do with your money come Sunday

hat you can’t get done here on riday night

ause saving money’s or bankers and amily men

And Tuesday the banker ran off with my wife

I tried to drink her off my worried mind

By drinking me a whiskey drink or two

But nothing seemed to do the trick till I met this nasty old hick

He said “son I got just the thing or you”

Chorus

God damn you bootlegger where you goin with my pay

All I can do is stagger while hard earned money walks away

God damn you bootlegger I swear it’s all your ault

For a man like me shine that clean was bound to clear me out

“ou should know better” my mama always told me

Everybody pays for the way they play

But it numbed my brain like it numbed my lips

And my good sense left with every sip

ow I’m on the loor with debts to pay

chorus

Written by:
Benjamin Westlund, Harmony Griffin, Shawn Glenn Huestis, Brendan James O'Connor, James Walter Royce

Publisher:
Lyrics © FRECKLED BEAVER RECORDS LLC

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