Lyrics

V1
Down around Waycross, Georgia, on the edge of the Okefenokee
There's an old cypress church with holes in the floor, for tobacco chewing folks
There's a rusted cast iron fence out back in the graveyard
And every young boy on the swamp learns to leave it alone
But some find out too late, and learn by a twist of fate
Not to mess with the grave of a lady named Lydia Stone
Not to mess with the grave of a lady named Lydia Stone

V2
She was the queen of Cowhouse Island, she ran 600 head or more
And she knew how to turn hard work into money, knew what a man was good for
She kept 25 pairs of strong hands down at the bunkhouse
Kept one by her side because she couldn't stand living alone
And they say every blood red moon she comes back and calls for the fiddler's tune
And they all dance on the grave of a lady names Lydia Stone
They all dance on the grave of a lady names Lydia Stone

Bridge
And the fiddler only knows one song, and he bows it softly all night long
It's a siren's call to the flesh and bone
Come and stand here at the altar, come and stand here at the altar
Next to Lydia Stone

Out
Down around Waycross, Georgia ... in the land of the Okefenokee
There's an old cypress church with holes in the floor, for tobacco chewing folks