Live Fireballs |
Rambling around this dirty old town,
Looking for nickels and dimes,
Times getting rough and I ain't got enough,
To buy me a bottle of wine.

Bottle of wine, Fruit of the vine,
When you gonna let me get sober,
Leave me alone, let me go home,
Let me go back and start over.

There's a little hotel just over the hill,
Dark as the coal in the mine,
The blankets are thin, but I lay there and grin,
'Cause I got a little bottle of wine.

I got pains in my head and bugs in my bed,
And my pants are so worn they shine,
Out on the street I ask the people I meet,
"Won't you buy me a bottle of wine?"

The preacher will preach and the teacher will teach,
And the miner will dig in the mine,
But I'll go down the road trusting in God,
And huggin' my bottle of wine.