He blew in on a dust cloud and stood on an old apple crate
Bronze colored bottles and a sign with a slick made up name
Gather round, Gather round, he’d say, I’ve got salvation to sell
He’d promise ‘em heaven and then lead ‘em all straight to hell

He wore old horn-rimmed glasses and set up in town squares at night
Sold watered down whiskey to good men whose crops had the blight
And many farmer and father fell hard for the ruse
Of the man with a plan and a cart full of Tennessee booze

Whiskey Will, Whiskey Will
There may be peace in the valley and gold in them hills
But down on the plains, when there’s nothin’ to till
there's a killin' in schillin' your swill
Whiskey Will

One Saturday Night he was packin' his wares up to leave
When a wiry young farm kid, came tuggin' on his silk shirt sleeve
Said mister please help me; I think my dad's awful ill
And the laudanum ain’t workin’ no sir do you think Whiskey Will

kid said he had silver, so whiskey will followed him back
The smell hit him hard when he walked in that old tin-roofed shack
Saw a trail of old bronze-colored bottles, and a man dead for days
Heard that kid whisper if hard times don't lead you astray

Whiskey Will, Whiskey Will
There may be peace in the valley and gold in them hills
But down on the plains, when there’s nothin’ to till
there's a killin' in schillin' your swill
Whiskey Will

It wasn’t yet midnight, when Whiskey Will lit out of town
Two bodies still burnin’ inside a ramshackle farm house
oversized horn-rimmed glasses, reflectin’ an orange harvest moon
a wiry young farm kid, just doing what he had to do

He blew in on a dust cloud and stood on an old apple crate
Bronze colored bottles and a sign with a slick made up name
Gather round, Gather round, he’d say, I’ve got salvation to sell
He’d promise ‘em heaven and then lead ‘em all straight to hell