Song Lyrics

If you ever go back into Wooley Swamp son you better not go at night
There's things out there in the middle of them woods
That'd make a strong man die from fright
There's things that crawl and things that fly
And things that creep around on the ground
And they say the ghost of Lucias Clay gets up and it walks around.

But I couldn't believe it, I just had to find out for myself
And I couldn't conceive it, I never would listen to nobody else
No I couldn't believe it, I just had to find out for myself
That there's some things in this world you just can't explain.
The old man lived in the Wooley Swamp way back in the gurgling woods
And he never did do a lot of harm in the world
But he never did do no good
People didn't think too much of him
They all thought he acted funny
The old man didn't care about people anyway
All he cared about was his money.
He'd stuff it all down in mason jars and bury it all around
But on certain nights if the moon was right
He'd dig it up out of the ground.
He'd pour it all out on the floor of his shack
And run his fingers through it.
Old Lucias Clay was a greedy old man
And that's all there ever was to it.

But I couldn't believe it, I just had to find out for myself
And I couldn't conceive it, I never would listen to nobody else
No I couldn't believe it, I just had to find out for myself
That there's some things in this world you just can't explain.
The old man lived in the Wooley Swamp way back in the gurgling woods
And he never did do a lot of harm in the world
But he never did do no good
People didn't think too much of him
They all thought he acted funny
The old man didn't care about people anyway
All he cared about was his money.
He'd stuff it all down in mason jars and bury it all around
But on certain nights if the moon was right
He'd dig it up out of the ground.
He'd pour it all out on the floor of his shack
And run his fingers through it.
Old Lucias Clay was a greedy old man
And that's all there ever was to it.

The Crayton boys were white trash, they lived over on Parvis Creek
They were a real snake and sneaky as a cat
And belligerent when they'd speak.
One night the oldest brother said y'all meet in the Wooley Swamp later
We'll get old Lucias' money and we'll pitch him to the alligators.
They found the old man out in the back with a shovel in his hand
And thirteen rusty mason jars he just dug up out of the sand.
And they all went crazy and they beat the old man
Then they picked him up off the ground
Then they threw him in the swamp and they stood there and laughed
Till the black water sucked him down.
Then they turned around and went back to the shack
And they picked up the money and ran.
But they hadn't gone nowhere when they realized
They were running in quicksand.
And they struggled and screamed but they couldn't get away
Then just before they were gone
They could hear that old man laughing
In a voice that was loud and strong.
Now that's been fifty years ago and if you go back by there again
There's a spot in the yard in back of that shack
Where the ground is always wet.
And on certain nights if the moon is right
And you're down by the dark footpath
You can hear three young men screaming
And you can hear that old man laugh.

If you ever go back into Wooley Swamp son you better not go at night
There's things out there in the middle of them woods
That'd make a strong man die from fright
There's things that crawl and things that fly
And things that creep around on the ground
And they say the ghost of Lucias Clay gets up and it walks around.

But I couldn't believe it, I just had to find out for myself
And I couldn't conceive it, I never would listen to nobody else
No I couldn't believe it, I just had to find out for myself
That there's some things in this world you just can't explain.
The old man lived in the Wooley Swamp way back in the gurgling woods
And he never did do a lot of harm in the world
But he never did do no good
People didn't think too much of him
They all thought he acted funny
The old man didn't care about people anyway
All he cared about was his money.
He'd stuff it all down in mason jars and bury it all around
But on certain nights if the moon was right
He'd dig it up out of the ground.
He'd pour it all out on the floor of his shack
And run his fingers through it.
Old Lucias Clay was a greedy old man
And that's all there ever was to it.

Charles Fred Hayward, Charlie Daniels, Fred Edwards, James W. Marshall, John Crain, William J. Digregorio