Lyrics |
I'll paly Bacchus for the evening,pray, be seated, take your places Should my manna seem displeasing,offend your airs and graces,I've a list long as your arm,( The connoisseur's selection)such bitter whines - a quaff of qualms,awaiting your inspections The bubbles burst - this aint sham-pain I've watched hopes wither on the vine The fruits of labours toiled in vain I reap soul-grapes at harvest time. Anno 1999 - a classic year for Vintage Whine. Since it's drawn - I must sup the cellarage of sorrowyet fate refills my tarnished cup each time I drain the dregs Their poison cannot kill me - new strength from it I 'll borrowmy maudlin is a caudle that would fill a thousand kegs. Here's one for the road - afore ye godrink deep sweet lads and lasses Those blighted crops you gladly sowshall one day fill your glasses Brood for decades - pure hate distilledthen bottled up much longer Revenge - a draught I'll serve you chilled,when time has made it stronger Non-cordial - it's bile bouquet. Laments ferment the patience schnapps Cask full of mulled futile dismay My well-aged-rage - you 've turned the taps Anno 1999 - a classic year for Vintage Whine. Since it's drawn - I must sup the cellarage of sorrowyet fate refills my tarnished cup each time I drain the dregs Their poison cannot kill me - new strength from it I 'll borrowmy maudlin is a caudle that would fill a thousand kegs. Anno 1999 - a classic year for Vintage Whine.
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