These are the words I sing, which I got from Clayton McMichen's recording. Some of it could be misheard of course and it';s years since I last listened to it and may have "modified it" in performance.

Blockade liquor has done me wrong. I can't sleep night or day.
A terrible feelin' that comes along when the kick it begins to get away.
Potash poison and a mixture two. They call it sugar of lead.
If you drink the bootleg 'shine, you sure will get an achin' head.

2. Did you ever wake up on a Sunday morn with snakes all around your bed?
I know you have. I have, too. I know I'd rather be dead.
The preacher comes around and gives advice, and then you have to stall.
But if he gets to the bottle first, he'll never leave you none at all.

3. I tell you, brother, and I won't lie, what's the matter in this land:
They drink it wet and vote it dry and hide it if they can.
They'll pitch a party and they'll all get drunk, and call it society,
But if they catch you with a pint, good mornin' penitentiary.

4. Well, prohibition has killed more folks than Sherman ever seen.
If they don't get whiskey, they'll take dope, cocaine, and morphine.
This ol' country it sure ain't dry, and dry will never be seen.
Prohibition is just a scheme, a money-makin' scythe machine.

5. Carbolic acid and creosote ought to kill any man.
Some get paralyzed, some get well, some hit the Golden Land.
The undertaker has got to live. help him if you can.
Prohibition, say it again, is a money-makin' scythe machine.