Vintage Whine - Skyclad

I’ll play Bacchus for the evening

Pray, be seated, take your places

Should my manner 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 inspection

The bubbles burst, this ain’t «sham-pain»

I’ve watched hopes wither on the vine

The fruits of labour’s toil 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 sorrow

Yet fate refills my tarnished cup each time I drain the dregs

Their poison cannot kill me, new strength from it I’ll borrow

My maudlin is a caudle that would fill a thousand kegs

Here’s one for the road, afore ye go

Drink deep, sweet lads and lasses

Those blighted crops you gladly sow

Shall one day fill your glasses

Brood for decades, pure hate distilled

Then 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 sorrow

Yet fate refills my tarnished cup each time I drain the dregs

Their poison cannot kill me, new strength from it I’ll borrow

My maudlin is a caudle that would fill a thousand kegs

Anno 1999: a classic year for vintage whine!