O! Wine tapper my ally
Bring down thy wine pot
Tonight, I want to make a full
From your relish hand-craft
The winery of boys in men
It left them in a quest of ills
As they see no good in taking it
There they behold foes in folks
Brotherhood at lips
They merrily exhume their dead
From their long-forgotten sleep
And they fight to bury them again
For their brotherhood was at the lips
Their long friendship was futile
As nothing else could hold them
They fight over nothing that mattered
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