(Oh, woah)

(Oh, woah)

(Oh, woah)

(Oh, woah)

Where we went swimming after Sunday school

Learned how to make, break, and bend the rules

Skipping class and slate rock and getting stoned

Not knowing any better's all we've ever known

Calico Creek runs deep through the holler and hills

Washes our sins clean as it feeds

them ol' copper-made stills

Word has a way of getting around

And every year, some kid'll drown

In Calico Creek (hey)

(Woo)

(Woo)

(Woo)

(Woo)

A little town where the old dogs turn mean

Full of pesticides and cans of kerosene

Where a stray cat can feel right at home

Not knowing any better's all we've ever known

Calico Creek runs deep through the holler and hills

Washes our sins clean as it feeds

them ol' copper-made stills

We're getting by on an empty tank

Found ourselves getting lost on the bank

Of Calico Creek

Calico Creek

(Woo)

(Woo)

Hey, hey

Where the rope swings are rotten

Had our toes touching bottom

It'll be dry by July, but if you walk down the sides

You can find some Rapalas

Eh-oh, eh-oh

Eh-oh, eh-oh

Eh-oh, eh-oh

Eh-oh, eh-oh

Eh-oh, eh-oh

Hey, hey, hey

Calico Creek runs deep through the holler and hills

Washes our sins clean as it feeds

them ol' copper-made stills

Hey, hey

Calico Creek (hey, hey)

Calico Creek (hey, hey)

Calico Creek (hey, hey)

Calico Creek (hey, hey)

(Woo)

(Woo)

(Woo)

(Woo)