Runcible Spoon

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Moonshine, just enough to cure this head

that goes on losing its mind every night.

Jesus walks on puddled sidewalks and

tragically loses the soles of his shoes in a


rain soaked pothole.  Moonshine, wild as

this heart, fill this empty cup full.

Fill it full for Jesus, heading west, on

aching feet.  He has nowhere to sleep.


Moonshine, just enough to get in this

brain that feels so scattered.  Jesus has

a gypsy soul, wandering night and day,

he wanders, wailing the blues, oh, moonshine.