| G | D | |
| Dooley was a good old man, he lived below the | mill. |
| C | G | |
| Dooley had two daughters and a 40 gallon | still. |
| G | D | |
| One gal wathched the boiler, the other watched the | spout, |
| C | G | |
| and mama corked the bottles when old Dooley fetched them | out. |
| Cborus |
| G | C | |
| Dooley, slippin' up the holler, | Dooley, tryin' to make a dollar, |
| G | D | G | |
| Dooley, gimmee a swaller and I'll | pay you back some | day. |
| The revenuers came for him, a-slippin' thru the woods, |
| Dooley kept behind them all and never lost his goods. |
| Dooley was a trader when into town he come, |
| Sugar by the bushel and molasses by the ton. |
| Cborus |
| I remember very well the day old Dooley died, |
| the women folk looked 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 a stone. |
| Cborus |
| Hope you like it. |