‘Twas a wine country Christmas and all through the cellar
Were stowed bottles of vino and this lucky feller;
Since I was guest, I should’ve inquired
“Say, mind if I binge?” before it transpired.
But my host had remarked “don’t judge a wine by its label”
And so I proceeded to drink him under the table
Then I sneaked down the hall and through the cellar door
Brandishing a corkscrew and thirsting for more
“Now, Ledson! now, Landmark! now, Kamen and Castle!
On, Gundlach! on, Bundschu! on Haywood and Hanzell!
We’ll pop all the corks and we’ll fill every cup
We’ll drink upside down just to say “Bottom’s up!”
Champagne gushed like geysers, merlot poured like rain
Zins went to my head and the cabs to my brain
When every bottle’s a vacation and every sip a holiday
Why not wash down pinot with a fine chardonnay?
My teeth had turned purple, my cheeks had gone red
Visions of cirrhosis danced through my head
Now the cellar was spinning and my view was a blur
An eloquent drunk, I made poetry of slurs
I crawled on my knees, for I’d forgotten my swagger
I’d decline a straight line but would be happy to stagger
And as I bumped in the night toward the end of my carol
I awakened my dear host who had me over a barrel
He was righteously angry, aggrieved and appalled
Not at having drunk his wine, but having drunken it all
But he bowed his head and said with Yule tide resign
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good wine.”
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‘Twas a wine country Christmas and all through the cellar
Were stowed bottles of vino and this lucky feller;
Since I was guest, I should’ve inquired
“Say, mind if I binge?” before it transpired.
But my host had remarked “don’t judge a wine by its label”
And so I proceeded to drink him under the table
Then I sneaked down the hall and through the cellar door
Brandishing a corkscrew and thirsting for more
“Now, Ledson! now, Landmark! now, Kamen and Castle!
On, Gundlach! on, Bundschu! on Haywood and Hanzell!
We’ll pop all the corks and we’ll fill every cup
We’ll drink upside down just to say “Bottom’s up!”
Champagne gushed like geysers, merlot poured like rain
Zins went to my head and the cabs to my brain
When every bottle’s a vacation and every sip a holiday
Why not wash down pinot with a fine chardonnay?
My teeth had turned purple, my cheeks had gone red
Visions of cirrhosis danced through my head
Now the cellar was spinning and my view was a blur
An eloquent drunk, I made poetry of slurs
I crawled on my knees, for I’d forgotten my swagger
I’d decline a straight line but would be happy to stagger
And as I bumped in the night toward the end of my carol
I awakened my dear host who had me over a barrel
He was righteously angry, aggrieved and appalled
Not at having drunk his wine, but having drunken it all
But he bowed his head and said with Yule tide resign
“Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good wine.”
Related posts: