Текст песни: Whisky Selling Blues + перевод

I feel superstitions, somethin’s goin' on wrong

I feel superstitions, somethin’s goin' on wrong

I’ve got my house full of beer, and my backyard full of corn1

I’ve got four cases, tomorrow at that county jail

I’ve got four cases, tomorrow at that county jail

And two is for my whisky, and two is for my forfeit bail

The judge he said, put a padlock on my door

The judge he said, put a padlock on my door

And I can’t sell whisky, and I can’t give parties no more

I will sell my whisky, to the chief of police in town

I will sell my whisky, to the chief of police in town

And if he don’t like my whisky, he’s welcome to ride me down

If I had a thousand dollars, judge I’d take my way

If I had a thousand dollars, judge I’d take my way, hey hey

And I would make this whole town, sloppy drunk one day

I would build me a still2, on every street in this town

I would build me a still, on every street in this town

And I wouldn’t allow police, eighteen miles around

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