Co-Conspirators The Moonshiner Botanical Sour Ale

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.