Crosbie's White Lightning

A winery had a failure; a batch of wine is crook. Those looking for a buyer, now don’t have to look, for the vintage that is offered, hidden out of sight, in a mystery went missing, from the vat one night. In a backyard out in Cardross, fume soon filled the air, drifting from a little shed, then drifting everywhere, An innocent poor motorist drove past Crosbie’s drive; when a copper pulled him over he was over point-o-five. Crosbie’s white lightning - ninety per-cent proof, gurgled in a little still, lifting off the roof; dribbling down a copper pipe, where a bucket filled. For Crosbie’s white lightning all you do is ask for Bill. The rumours ‘round the district is good news for his brew. There’s nothing it won’t kill; there’s nothing it can’t do. It’ll build up all your chooks; kill off all your snails. It used to send his Trotters flying ‘round the rails. People have been dying; often I’ve heard said - Bill dropped in a bottle; next day they’re out of bed. It’s better than Viagra when your urging fades - and simply for some others it even cures Aids. Crosbie’s white lightning - ninety per-cent proof, gurgled in a little still, lifting off the roof; dribbling down a copper pipe, where a bucket filled. For Crosbie’s white lightning all you do is ask for Bill. The law came out to visit Bill; they’d heard about it too, but they needed evidence so they had to taste the brew. They quickly turned to ‘ga-ga’; Bill put ‘em to the test. For their drunkenness he made a citizens arrest. So to all you drinkers who think can down some beer, you better stop your bragging when the still is in top gear. You can drink your beer all day, but be careful of a whiff - twelve stubbies is comparable to just one ‘lightning’ sniff. Crosbie’s white lightning - ninety per-cent proof, gurgled in a little still, lifting off the roof; dribbling down a copper pipe, where a bucket filled. For Crosbie’s white lightning all you do is ask for Bill.