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

SUBMIT CORRECTIONS