When I'm drinking wine from a bottle
There's just one conclusion to draw
That my drunken old a$$
Was too snockered to go get a glass
Or a cup or a straw

If only the wine lasted longer
But bottles go empty so fast
I save Chardonnay like a treasure and then,
On weekends I get really trashed

But there never seems to be enough wine
To fill the time from Friday night
Until Monday
The cork is pulled, we start to pour
And then we find there is no more
Come Sunday

I start with Claret or Chianti
Then Reisling, Merlot, and Rosé
An Asti Spumante
Won't trouble or daunt me
I drink 'til the French seem ok

But there never seems to be enough wine
The Zinfandel is gone by nine
But we're happy
Take my advice, I've drunk enough
It's better to avoid the stuff
That's crappy