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I’m goin’ down to Luther’s
get me a bootleg sack
I said I’m goin’ down to Luther’s
get me a bootleg sack
And then it’s over to Miss Sally’s
Shake it down by the Chicken Shack
Them bones be flip ‘n flyin’
In the air and on the floor
I said, them bones be flip ‘n flyin’
In the air and on the floor
Shimmy it down, baby
‘Til I can’t stand it no more
I’m cryin’ at you, baby
When you goin’ to treat me right?
I’m cryin’ at you, darlin‘ baby
When you goin’ to treat me right?
I give you all my hard-earned money
Come near each and every night!
When I was growing up in my town the only way an underaged kid could get alcohol was to go to the bootlegger. It was actually only a couple of blocks from my house, so very convenient. Boone’s Farm wine was a favorite, I guess because it was more Koolaid than it was wine. Then there was what we called Ms. Ann’s chicken shack, a house where you could get the very best fried chicken, and just about anything else from gambling to girls. I don’t know why I changed her name in the song, it just rolled out that way. Oh well.
