Текст песни Skyclad - Vintage Whine
Skyclad - Vintage Whine слова песни
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.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.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.Anno 1999 - a classic year for Vintage Whine.