Born in a cloud of dust It broke the best of us Sweating poverty A desperate time Then they took our drink away How are we supposed to live that way Nothing takes away the pain Like Templeton Rye So let the barn burn Let the band play Everything will be OK When your mouth gets dry Fill my cup with Templeton Rye Bag of sugar and a bushel of grain Everyone is praying for rain Revenuers pour it down the drain Start from scratch Thirty feet of a copper pipe One hundred gallons cooking overnight Make sure it tastes just right And start another batch So we make it on our own In the basement of our home Sell a little bit to Al Capone He's got a mean mean thirst Take the rest to the River House Barn Out in back of the heater farm A pretty girl walking on my arm Guided by the moonlight