Story Behind The Song
Bubbaville is a song about the people in rural America. Regardless of the location, they share common beliefs, values and lifestyles. Although God fearing,they aren't a perfect lot, and they lead a life filled with drama outside the glitz and glamour of city dwellers.
Song Description
Bubbaville tells the story of a typical rural family. Somewhat isolated, they make moonshine to supplement their income. They try to stay under the radar of the law and mind their own business, as they peddle their hooch. Everybody knows everybody's busin
| Song Length |
3:35 |
Genre |
Country - Rock, Country - Contemporary |
| Tempo |
Fast (151 - 170) |
Lead Vocal |
Female Vocal |
| Mood |
Tense, Sociable |
Subject |
Region, Dysfunctional Family |
| Language |
English |
Era |
2000 and later |
Lyrics
Bubbaville
I. Drivin' down that gravel road peddlin' hooch in a dry county.
Kissin' cousins know they shouldn't make out, but they do it anyway.
Gotta go slow. Backseat drama. Uh, oh!Rearview mirror. Dang! Here comes th' Po-Po.
(Chorus)
We're turnin' sunshine into moonshine. We're cookin' up some corn liquor.
We mix th' sour mash. This crop is cash. Th' copper kettle's in th' kitchen.
Th' bubble, drip it drives you wild, 'specially when you're a thirsty country child.
Take a sip and numb yo' lip. Welcome, y'all, to Bubbaville.
(Turnaround)
II. Flashin' lights done passed us by. Th' Busy Bee had a shootin'.
A woman lookin' for her cheatin' old man. They had a bad reunion.
Shoulda said, no. Gossip never gets old.
Can't hide nothin' from these here town folk.
(Turnaround)
III. Sister brought her boyfriend home, so I'm loadin' up my shotgun.
He said he heard about th' coon huntin' here. Wuz we gonna get some?
Country boys know. He's like usins. Case closed!
Sis got married. Now, he's my best bro'.
(Chorus)
We're turnin' sunshine into moonshine. We're cookin' up some corn liquor.
We mix th' sour mash. This crop is cash. Th' copper kettle's in th' kitchen.
Th' bubble, drip it drives you wild, 'specially when you're a thirsty country child.
Take a sip and numb yo' lip. Welcome, y'all, to Bubbaville.
(Tag)
We love God here in th' sticks. Welcome, y'all, to Bubbaville.
We don't cook no lumpy grits. Welcome, y'all, to Bubbaville.
Come on down. Let's skinny dip. Welcome, y'all, to Bubbaville.