Born in a cloud of dust
It broke the best of us
Sweating poverty
A desperate time
Then they took our drink away
How are we supposed to live that way
Nothing takes away the pain
Like Templeton Rye
So let the barn burn
Let the band play
Everything will be OK
When your mouth gets dry
Fill my cup with Templeton Rye
Bag of sugar and a bushel of grain
Everyone is praying for rain
Revenuers pour it down the drain
Start from scratch
Thirty feet of a copper pipe
One hundred gallons cooking overnight
Make sure it tastes just right
And start another batch
So we make it on our own
In the basement of our home
Sell a little bit to Al Capone
He's got a mean mean thirst
Take the rest to the River House Barn
Out in back of the heater farm
A pretty girl walking on my arm
Guided by the moonlight
