betterstillery

met a man named miles
he came from miles away,
on a day
i just wanted to play

i got no tattoo
but he had a tattoo on his arm,
of the periodic
table of elements, the tattoo least idiotic

i got a fiddle
and boy he could fiddle,
so we played saturday night,
'ere the death of he who liked to fight

davey knew how to box
miles drew on a box
the plans i would make
to build a 'still in a better way

better still,
a better 'still,
a better way
to separate
the good from the bad
and the love from the hate.
that which doesn't make you blind
only makes you stronger
in your own mind
nights are getting longer

with a big metal pot
and a little bit of pot,
some tubing, and some time
even before its built i'm committing a crime

a soldering iron
and a branding iron,
i'm a cowboy of invention.
i say this with the best of intentions.

there'll be corn in the mash
get your hands off the mash,
let it sit and relax.
fermenting and releasing some gas

oh my god,
oh my god,
if whiskey is the devil.
why are so many monks drunk and disheveled?

better still...