Botanical Sour 4.7%
All hail The Moonshiner and
her sparkling pot of miracle brew.
In the white light of the starry skies
Her truth juice rids tongues of lies.
The man goes down the garden path
Spying a sip from her tub-o-bath,
a witches cauldron, with fruit it fills,
overflowing floral botanical spills.
Left soured, a shrill yell pierces the night
right into the day. Hark! Another one
falls to the wiles of Brogan’s Way.