Tear My Stillhouse Down - Gillian Welch

Put no stone at my head, no flowers on my tomb

No gold plated sign in a marble pillared room

The one thing I want when they lay me in the ground

When I die, tear my stillhouse down

Oh tear my stillhouse down, let it go to rust

Don’t leave no trace of the hiding place where I made that evil stuff

For all my time and money, no profit did I see

That old copper kettle was the death of me

When I was a child way back in the hills

I laughed at the men who tended those stills

But that old mountain shine, it caught me somehow

When I die, tear my stillhouse down

Oh tear my stillhouse down, let it go to rust

Don’t leave no trace of the hiding place where I made that evil stuff

For all my time and money no profit did I see

That old copper kettle was the death of me

Oh tell all your children that Hell ain’t no dream

'Cause Satan he lives in my whiskey machine

And in my time of dying, I know where I’m bound

So when I die, tear my stillhouse down

Oh tear my stillhouse down, let it go to rust

Don’t leave no trace of the hiding place where I made that evil stuff

For all my time and money no profit did I see

That old copper kettle was the death of me