| Down among the wines and spirits
|
| Where a man gets what he merits
|
| Once he was written in letters of nine feet tall
|
| Now he finds how far he’s fallen
|
| Since he set his mind on her completely
|
| Oh well, I guess that you mustn’t have seen him lately
|
| Walking around with a pain that never ceases
|
| He starts to speak and then he falls to pieces
|
| Down among the wines and spirits
|
| Where a man gets what he merits
|
| Lives with the echoing words of their final quarrel
|
| The vacant chamber and the empty barrel
|
| But as he picks himself up from a sawdust floor
|
| Clicks his fingers to that swinging door
|
| Suddenly he’s calling out more, more, more
|
| I’m twice the foolish man I was before
|
| Down among the wines and spirits
|
| Bubbles escaping from him from the rim of a glass of grape
|
| She sails through his memory just like a ship of chaplet
|
| As it started to sink, he was drinking to drown his sorrows
|
| That fill his nights and they empty his tomorrows
|
| But as he picks himself up from a sawdust floor
|
| Clicks his fingers to that swinging door
|
| Suddenly he’s calling out more, more, more
|
| Speaks of invisible things he hardly credits
|
| Down among, down among
|
| Down among the wines and spirits |