Put no stone at my head, no flowers on my tomb No gold-plated sign in a marble pillared room That's one thing I want when they lay me in the ground When I die, tear my Stillhouse down When I was a lad way back in the hills I laughed at the men who tended those stills But that old mountain shine, they caught me somehow When I die, tear my Stillhouse down Oh, tear my Stillhouse down, let it go to rust Don't leave no trace at the hiding place where I made that evil stuff For all my time and money, no profit did I see Go tell all your children, Hell ain't no dream Satan, he lives in my whiskey machine Oh, in my time of dying, I know where I'm bound When I die, tear my Stillhouse down Oh, tear my Stillhouse down, let it go to rust Don't leave no trace at the hiding place where I made that evil stuff For all my time and money, no profit did I see That old copper kettle was the death of me That old copper kettle was the death of me