Текст: Dennis Wilson. Moonshine.

Who made my moonshine intoxicate me
Ooh, who made me cry
Like the end of a beautiful play

Holds and tickles and hugs out the night
Hold her hand and started to cry
The audience thought they would die

It was you, who said there won't be tomorrow
You said, you love me now in another way
Oh, in another way

It was you, who said there won't be tomorrow
You said, you love me now in another way
Oh, in another way

Gone away
Gone away
Gone away
...