Текст песни SKYCLAD - Vintage Whine
SKYCLAD - Vintage Whine слова песни
Текст песни SKYCLAD - Vintage Whine
I'll paly Bacchus for the evening,pray, be seated, take your placesShould 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 inspectionsThe bubbles burst - this aint sham-painI've watched hopes wither on the vineThe fruits of labours toiled in vainI reap soul-grapes at harvest time.Anno 1999 - a classic year for Vintage Whine.CHORUS :Since it's drawn - I must sup the cellarage of sorrowyet fate refills my tarnished cup each time i drain the dregsTheir 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 lassesThose blighted crops you gladly sowshall one day fill your glassesBrood for decades - pure hate distilledthen bottled up much longerRevenge - a draught i'll serve you chilled,when time has made it strongerNon-cordial - it's bile bouquet.Laments ferment the patience schnappsCask full of mulled futile dismayMy well-aged-rage - you 've turned the tapsAnno 1999 - a classic year for Vintage Whine.