The Moonshiner

I've been a moonshiner for manys the year,

I've spent all me money on whiskey and beer.

I go to some hollow and set up me still,

And I'll make you a gallon for a ten-shilling bill.

Chorus

I'm a rambler, I'm a gambler, I'm a long way from home,

And if you don't like just leave me alone.

I'll eat when I'm hungry, I'll drink when I'm dry,

And if the moonshine don't kill me I'll live till I die

If the ocean was whiskey and I was a duck,

I'd swim to the bottom and never come up.

No women to follow, and the world is all mine,

And I love none so well as I love me moonshine.

Chorus

Now moonshine, O moonshine, oh how I love thee

You killed me poor pappy but dare you try me.

God bless all moonshiners, God bless all moonshine,

For its breath smells as sweet as the dew on the vine.

Chorus

There's moonshine for Liza, there's moonshine for Kay,

There's moonshine for Molly, and a roll in the hay.

There's moonshine for breakfast, there's moonshine for tea,

There's moonshine me hearties for you and for me.

Chorus

An Old Cliché Revisited,

or Do Virgins Taste

Better than Girls

Who Are Not?

A dragon has come to our village today

We'd like him to leave, but he won't go away

He talked to our king, and they worked out a deal

No homes will he burn, and no stock will he steal

Now there is but one catch (we dislikes it a bunch)

Twice a year he invites him a virgin for lunch

We don't have much choice, so this deal we'll respect,

but we can't help but wonder and pause to reflect

Chorus

Do virgins taste better than girls who are not?

Are they saltier, sweeter, more juicy or what?

Do you savor them slow, gulp them down on the spot?

Do virgins taste better than girls who are not?

Now we'd like to be rid of ya and many have tried

But no one can get through your thick scaly hide

We hope that someday a brave soul will come by

'Cause we can't wait around 'til you're too fat to fly

Now you have such good taste in your women for sure

They always are pretty, they always are pure

But your notion of dining, it makes us all flinch

For your favorite entree is a barbecued wench

Chorus

Now we've got us a plan, and  it works out so neat

If you'll settle for nothing but virgins to eat

No more will our numbers grow ever so small . . .

We'll simply make sure there's no virgins at all !!!

Chorus