The Martins and the Coys lyrics

Gather 'round me children and I'll tell a story

Of the mountains and the days when guns was law

When two fam'lies got to feudin', it was bound to end in shootin'

So just listen close, I'll tell you what saw.

Oh, the Martins and the Coys they were reckless mountain boys

And they took up family feudin' when they'd meet

They would shoot each other quicker than it took your eye to flicker

They could knock a squirrel's eye out at ninety feet.

All this fightin' started out one sunday morning

When old grandpa Coy was full of mountain dew

Just as quite as a churchmouse, he stole in the Martin's henhouse

Cause the Coys they needed eggs for breakfast, too.

Oh, The Martins and the Coys, they were reckless mountain boys

Coz old grandpa Coy's gone where angels live

When they found him on the mountain he was bleedin' like a fountain

'Cause they punctured him 'til he looked like a sieve.

After that they started out to fight in earnest

And they scarred the mountains up with shot and shell

There was uncles, brothers, cousins, why they bumped them off by dozens

Just how many bit the dust is hard to tell.

Oh, The Martins and the Coys, they were reckless mountain boys

At the art of killin' they become quite deft

They all know'd they shouldn't do it but before they hardly knew it

On each side they only had one person left.

Now the sole remainin' Martin was a maiden

And as purty as a picture was this Grace

While the one survivin' boy was the handsome Henry Coy

And the folks all knew they'd soon meet face to face.

Oh, The Martins and the Coys, they were reckless mountain boys

But their shootin' and their killin' sure played [hob]

And it didn't bring no joy to know that Grace and Henry Coy

Both had sworn that they would finish up the job.

So, they finally met upon a mountain pathway

And young Henry Coy he aimed his gun at Grace

He was set to pull the trigger, when he saw her purty figure

You could see that love had kicked him in the face.

Oh, The Martins and the Coys, they were reckless mountain boys

But they say their ghostly cussin' gives them chills

But the hatchet sure was buried, when sweet Grace and Henry married

It broke up the best durn feud in these here hills.

You may think this is where the story ended

But I'm tellin' you the ghosts don't cuss no more

'Cause since Grace and Henry wedded

They fight worse than all the rest did

And they carry on the feud just like before