The Mahogany is dusty,
All the pipes are very rusty,
And the good, old-fashioned Musty,
Doesn't musty anymore.
All the stuff's got bum and bummer,
from the middle of the Summer.
Now the bar is on the hummer,
and For Rent is on the door.
How sad and still tonight,
by the old distillery,
And how the cob-webs cob,
on the old machinery.
But in the mountain tops,
far from the eyes of cops,
Oh how the moon shines on
the moonshine, so merrily!
Goodness me, how misery doubles,
Ain't one thing to use for bubbles,
Or to drive awy your troubles,
For the tide has gone and went.
Days and nights are getting bleaker,
shivering for an old-time sneaker,
Even water's getting weaker,
'Bout one tenth of one per cent.
How sad and still tonight,
by the old distillery,
And how the Monas moan,
at the Lager brewery.
So, mister, if you please,
Don't let nobody sneeze,
Up where the moon shines
On the moonshine, so sillily