Bring out your white, bring out your red,
Bring out the grapevine's daughter,
Enough to fill a waterbed,
We'll drink it down like water,
Pour it cold, pour it cool,
Pour it a little hotter,
Fill the glass - the golden rule,
Sobriety to slaughter.
Like rivers flowing with the tide,
Wine to soak the blotter,
Wine to fill the oceans wide,
Wine to drink like water.
Toast your sainted mother sure,
And toast your alma mater,
Pick up a wee dram o' the pure,
And down the hatch like water.
Whiskey smooth as ermine pelt,
Or mayhap that of otter,
Here me lad, let's have a belt,
We'll take it down like water.
If you want a hearty brew,
Then I will be your spotter,
Quite a lineup will ensue,
We'll pound 'em down like water.
Leaning on a beggar's crutch,
The merest rabble squatter,
With glass in hand I thirst as much,
As any kingly yachter.
Whether 'tis crystal with golden rim,
Or clay from the local potter,
Fill that bad boy right to the brim,
Then it gets my imprimatur.
Set the bottles, and set me a glass,
I'll mow them down like excess fodder.
Nectar of the gods or cuvée crass,
I'll knock it back like water.
The thirsty man with teetotaling wife,
'Twon't be long before he's fought her,
Serve the liquid love, avoid the strife,
He'll drink it down like water.
Scheme to take my booze away,
Ye righteous little plotter,
Ye may pay, and ye may pray,
But it's going down like water.
I'll slug it back - the sweet, the dry,
Enough to weave and totter,
Tomorrow I'll wake thirsty, aye,
And probably need some water.
Copyright © Doug Vinson | Year Posted 2016