Moonshiner, moonshiner. Pass it here one more time. Moonshiner, moonshiner. Pass it here one more time. . You've got that good, hard stuff. That always gets me high.
Jack and Edie lying across my bed. Flying high like the spirits of the dead. The living and the dead, the living and the dead. . Our Lady of Sorrows and the long dark night.
You're like a saint's song to me. I'll try to sing it pure and easily. You're like a Mexican blue. So bright and clear and pale in the afternoon. . I saw you riding on your bike.
Feeling my blues, I tear myself away. He will never have to hear what I had to say. My little words are lost in the wind. With no where to go and I am just like them.