No one now knows too much about these woods, If they got lost, they wouldn't know where to go. Maybe there ain't even that much left to know. You can strip the trees, foul the streams, try to hide in the progressive ream.
Blood flows back and back and back and back, Like a river from a secret source.
Women sing in me that song from the ancient choir, I just open my mouth and what comes out gives me chills. I got my song from a secret place, I got my face from Billy from the hills. A 40-inch barrel on that shotgun, Steel traps and a cane pack on his back. If you're lookin' for a helpin' hand, He'll give you one, you know he will. If you're lookin' for trouble, huh-uh, turn around, You don't wanna mess with Billy from the hills.