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 spout
And mama corked the bottles and old Dooley fetched 'em out

   Dooley slippin' up the holler
   Dooley try to make a dollar
   Dooley gimme 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 ton.

I remember very well the day old Dooley died
The women folk weren't sorry and the men stood around 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.