Well my name's John Lee Pettimore. Same as my daddy and his daddy before. You hardly ever saw Grandaddy down here. He only came to town about twice a year. He'd buy a hundred pounds of yeast and some copper line. Everybody knew that he made moonshine. Now the revenue man wanted Grandaddy bad. He headed up the holler with everything he had. It's before my time but I've been told. He never came back from Copperhead Road. Now Daddy ran the whiskey in a big block Dodge. Bought it at an auction at the Mason's Lodge. Johnson County Sheriff painted on the side. Just shot a coat of primer then he looked inside. Well him and my uncle tore that engine down. I still remember that rumblin' sound. Well the sheriff came around in the middle of the night. Heard mama cryin' knew something wasn't right. He was headed down to Knoxville with the weekly load. You could smell the whiskey burnin' down Copperhead Road. I volunteered for the Army on my birthday. They draft the white trash first'round here anyway. I done two tours of duty in Vietnam. And I came home with a brand new plan. I take the seed from Colombia and Mexico. I plant it up the holler down Copperhead Road. Well the D.E.A.'s got a chopper in the air. I wake up screaming like I'm back over there. I learned a thing or two from ol' Charlie don't you know. You better stay away from Copperhead Road. Copperhead Road. Copperhead Road. Copperhead Road.