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Well, I went to Gastonia, started drinking bay rum
First thing I know, the police grab my arm
Says, "Come on, boy. You're jailhouse bound"

Well, hello, buddy. I know you
Turned-over slipper, run-down shoe
You're on your way to the railer's chain

Well, I drunk one bottle, didn't mean no harm
Next thing I know, the police grab my arm
Says, "Come on, boy. You're chain-gang bound"

Second offense

Now, some people says bay rum's a good tonic
My buddy says it's good for your stomach
He's on his way to the railer's chain

Well, election night I went uptown
Them bay rum hounds, hanging around
Pretty close to the railer's chain

Roosevelt was wet and Hoover was dry
Give me bay rum and let Hoover buy
I'm on my way to the railer's chain

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