Dooley was a good old man, he lived below the mill
Dooley had two daughters and a forty-gallon still
One gal watched the boiler, the other watched the spout
And mama corked the bottles and old Dooley fetched 'em out

Dooley slippin' up the holler
Dooley tryin' to make a dollar
Dooley, give me a swaller
And I'll pay you back someday

The revenuers came for him, a-slippin' through the woods
Dooley kept behind them all and never lost his goods
Dooley was a trader when into town he'd come
Sugar by the bushel and molasses by the drum

Dooley slippin' up the holler
Dooley tryin' to make a dollar
Dooley, give me a swaller
And I'll pay you back someday

I remember very well the day old Dooley died
The women folk weren't sorry and the men stood 'round and cried
Now Dooley's on the mountain, he lies there all alone
They put a jug beside him and a barrel for his stone

Dooley slippin' up the holler
Dooley tryin' to make a dollar
Dooley, give me a swaller
And I'll pay you back someday

And I'll pay you back someday