Old Machine

I made some moonshine So I could put it in a song and not feel the frost, But I still don't have a song about knowing God Or God knowing me. I made moonshine, And it's just as clear and cold as a mountain stream And it tastes like a solvent that could clean This old machine. Woah, moonshine, Can you tune up the inner workings of my heart? Yeah, and you burn off the tar and loosen up the parts. It oughta move. I made moonshine Because this old machine is slipping out of time. Yeah, the syncopated pedal of my mind Lost its line, So I made moonshine. Now I'm a fire-breathing heathen in the night. I'm all tangled in the tail of a runaway kite. Oh, where am I? Woah, moonshine, Can you tune up the inner workings of the years? Can you burn up the dust, loosen up the gears Of my heart?