(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)