From the recording Brewgrass


Thomas Bigfoot Spencer

Thomas Bigfoot Spencer was a mountain of a man
he come down from Virginia into the Cumberland
hunting and trapping and chasing buffalo
warming by the fire with the moon all aglow to the sound of an old banjo

He said I don’t need to smoke cigars or sip on fancy wine
I like sleeping ‘neath the stars, I was born to cross the line
some men seek their fortunes in a city by the sea
some find what they’re looking for in the heart of a sycamore tree
in the hills of Tennessee

Tom could cut a forest down with one mighty chop
He once killt a hundret deer with a single rifle shot
Seven foot, eight foot, nine foot tall, his legend grew and grew
They say he ran to Arkansas, in an hour or two, and he makes a mean bear stew


Winter got so cold one year big Tom liked to die
But he carved out a hollow tree and he cozied up inside
Tom got ambushed late one night, they shot him in the head
I cried when I heard the news ol’ Bigfoot was dead, but I remember what he said