Cool and cloudy nights up on a mountain in Alabama

I was stealing corn from Homer Lawson’s field

The rattle of the corn stalks and the bark of Homers hound dog

Made me hug the ground and lie dead still

Flashin’ through my mind was big Homer’s reputation

The man who really didn’t give a damn

They say he shot old Mountain Joe

For just one ear of corn

And laughed the day they laid him in the ground

Well I can hear the breaking of the sticks from someone’s foot steps

But shaky legs just can’t get up and run

And as I lay there breathless the next thing I expected

Was a blast of hell from Homer Lawson’s gun

The clouds rolled by and then I saw the shadow of a lady

It was Homer’s lovely daughter Julie Ann

I smelled the perfume in her hair as she sat down beside me

Whispered Papa’s runnin moonshine again

I thank God for cloudy nights and Alabama’s whiskey stills

And harvest time in Homer Lawson’s field

I thank God for cloudy nights and Alabama’s whiskey stills

And harvest time in Homer Lawson’s field