From Bimini to the Jersey Shore they ran their sacred mission

To help the poor unfortunates, oppressed by the Prohibition

When the Puritans in politics began to play their dirty tricks

And outlaw every thing that we enjoy

Rum boats ahoy

We’re gonna get ourselves a drop of the Real McCoy

Chorus:

Rum runner, rum runner

Run your rum right up the line

Rum runner, rum runner

Rum, whiskey, gin and rye

Run rum runners run

We’re running dry

We’re running dry

women
uncle
tricks
thing
taxed
shoreline
running
runner
right
revenues
ready
thirst
excise
enough
began
whatever
waits
underway
three
their
enjoy
oppressed
cutters
prohibition
drink
first
havana
gambling
behind
shore
every
infamous
filled
price
charleston
barrels
burst
never
somebody
booze
samples
boats
chorus
floating
calypso
giving
whiskey
girls
lives
gloucester
gonna
patrol
sacred
hands
jersey
closing
machine
miles
mccoy
mission
ourselves
outlaw
paradise
party
runners
dirty
politics
steady
brought
quench

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