Lord of the vine, I am Bacchus
Often pictured in scenes quite bucolic
A gleeful old sot, on a leafy green cot
While about me the young people frolic
You might envy the life that I lead
And think that it is very fine
The parties go on from dusk until dawn
Everyone comes for the wine, wine, wine, oh
Everyone comes for the wine
Now the ladies are all very lovely
Clad in trifles with hardly a hem
But though they are busty, long-legged and lusty
I have little strength left for them
They all tease me and flatter my ego
But they're more towards the young men inclined
The lads all seem nice, so I give them advice
And I drown all their sorrows in wine, wine, wine, oh
I drown all their sorrows in wine
Now godhood could really be handy
If the lusting for power you've tasted
But it takes so much time to play games of that kind
That on me it is totally wasted
So pity this poor aging drunkard
For you see every vice had its fine
And if you lived this way, hangovers day after day
You'd probably stay drunk here on wine, wine, wine, oh
You'd probably stay drunk here on wine