Moonshine - Paul Weller

A bag of nerves

I seem to suppress

Alien of being

Not known to duress

Moonshine, moonshine

There’s something in the hills I cannot posses

As dark as sunday

We’re woven again

I pack no meaning

I’m shrunken in vain

Moonshine, moonshine

I’m bleak as Tuesday

I seek no applause

Not really like me

Refuse to go on

My faith has been surely fired

I’m schooled in the test of time

Moonshine, moonshine

There’s something in the hills I cannot posses

I’m deaf as Thursday

I seek to explode

One hour daily

I work to implode

Moonshine, moonshine