Cat. #1556 (MFH #1024) - As sung by Arlin Hughes, Winslow, Arkansas on April 14, 1975
VERSE 1
Now, listen for a spell
A story I will tell
A tale about a man
Called Smokey Mountain Bill
Now, he was tall an' thin
He drunk a lot'a gin
An' that's what caused 'im all
Th trouble he got in
He buyed a whiskey still
Away up on th hill
An' he was tellin' fortunes
T' drive away a kill
Ya talk about a jog
T' get him on his drag
Then he started singing this song
Olda-lady, olda-lady, olda-lady
VERSE 2
There is a New York man
That's known by Shootin' Dan
He loaded up his gun
An' he went to get his man
He never found th still
N' now, he never will
A box-shot stopped 'im
As he started up th hill
A mouth had rolled around
When Bill come int' town
Th sheriff got behind 'im
An' he knocked t' th ground
He locked 'im in th jail
An' wouldn't give 'im bail
Then he started singin' this song
Olda-lady, olda-lady, olda-lady
VERSE 3
He bursted down th door
He grabbed a forty-four
He knocked th jailer down
An' he left 'im on th floor
He stole a horse an' run
A shootin' off his gun
He yelled, now come an' get me
If you want t' have some gun
I gave your town a line
An' left th town behind
Th sheriff turned around
When he heard a bullet whine
Away upon th hill
They heard from smokey Bill
When he started singin' this song
Olda-lady, olda-lady, olda-lady
VERSE 4
Smokey Mountian Bill
Away upon th hill
They never brought 'im down
An' I'll bet they never will
He's gettin ole an' thin
With whiskers on his chin
He learns a lot'a tunes
An' I know wild men
With notches on his gun
He goes -- -- --
He --- --- every night
An' he reads till four o'clock
Takes a litle snort
I think about a quart
Then he starts singin' this song
Olda-lady, olda-lady, olda-lady