Overstoned, this town is leathered
With many tales not to tell
Urban sides, the secret hides
The truth about where them beavers dwell
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Come on down to Beaver's Mountain
There's more beavers than tanks in that hill
Come on down to Beaver's Mountain
We're sipping on the shine we stole from the St. James still
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Going down see Molly and I heard C Pryor is fat
Seen a million beavers taking turns to ride a rat
Nearly lost my banjo to them beavers in the east
When the sun went down on beaver's town, those bastards turned to beasts
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Come on down to Beaver's Mountain
Theres more beavers than tanks in that hill
Come on down to Beaver's Mountain
We're sipping on the shine we stole from the St. James still
It was nineteen hundred and thirty five
When those bastards stole my dreams
They climbed up Beaver's Mountain
And grabbed my mean machine
Took my mighty barrel, and rode it off that ridge
Now all thats left is blood and beavers
And death down by South Bridge
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Come on down to Beaver's Mountain
Theres more beavers than tanks in that hill
Come on down to Beaver's Mountain
We're sipping on the shine we stole from the St. James still
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