Now George stayed out too late one night
Wife home waiting, itching for a fight
He never would've done it if he wasn't in a pinch
Take that old shortcut over Rebel Ridge

Now Rebel Ridge took its name
From a confederate gunned down they claim
By a band of Yankees who tracked him down
Sent his soul to Providence, put his body in the ground

The rebel had a dog that hung round his grave
Every last day till it passed away
Not that George was thinking about this you understand
He was worried about his woman and her frying pan

He was making his way in the full moonlight
When a big white dog up and gave him a fright
"Git from here!" is what he said to it
But when he kicked it away his foot went right through it

Well, that pulled George right up in his tracks
As he stared the dog's red eyes stared back
He could see through to the ground where that dog belonged
So George took off running but the dog ran along, saying,

"We're running now, ain't we?
"We're running now, ain't we?
"We're running now, we're running now."

Well this about scared poor George to death
He clutched his chest, he gasped for breath
He stood stock still and hung his head
So the dog sat down, looked up and it said,

"We're resting now, ain't we?
"We're resting now, ain't we?
"We're resting now, we're resting now."

This was unnatural; George knew that
He was off running again in nothing flat
But truth be told he began to lose hope
When the dog kept up at an easy lope, saying,

"We're running again, ain't we?
"We're running again, ain't we?
"We're running again, we're running again."

Blind with fear George caught his foot
And was sent sprawling by an old tree root
Ghost Dog would get him now - he was good as dead
As he lay there whimpering a ghostly voice said,

"We're resting again, ain't we?
"We're resting again, ain't we?
"We're resting again, we're resting again."

Well this just pushed poor George too far
He hollered, "Yes! Ay God! We are!
And when we get rested you can be sure
We're gonna get up and run some damn more!"

[fiery instrumental]

Lucky George lived to tell the tale
Of a furious wife and a dog so pale
You could see right through it, but he never got the itch
To take another shortcut over Rebel Ridge