Ain't no plum wine. . .vintage gone,
Lips sipped and it slipped away.
Ain't no plum wine. . .it's plumb gone.
Since it's gone, for a drink long, slivovitz* shift is OK.

Once wine, but distilled to schnapps,
It gots a fruity bouquet,
So I pops off some more tops
And then like a sponge, I sops; Schnapps sloshes in my booze bay.

Then it blows, it blows. . . .

Yeah, I oughta leave this plum drink alone,
And next time the plum wine is gone. . .drink dark beer or Chardonnay,
But this plum find's turned me on--
Once wine, it's fined, I bibe on; but like a drunkard, I spray.

But like a drunkard, I spray,
And I whine each time I spray,
"Why'd I bibe plum wine away?"
Pipes of the plumbing I spray.
I give sliv the slip? No way!
I've succumbed to plum bouquet. . . .


*plum brandy