(Chorus:)
Bottle of wine, fruit of the vine,
when you gonna let me get sober,
let me alone, let me go home,
let me go back and start over.
Rambling around this dirty old town,
singing for nickels and dimes,
time's getting rough, I ain't got enough
to buy me a bottle of wine.
Chorus
There's a little hotel, older than Hell,
cold as the dark in the mine,
blanket so thin, I lie there and grin,
buy me a little bottle of wine.
Chorus
Well, the preacher will preach, and the teacher will teach
The miner will dig in the mine
I ride the rods, trusting in God,
and hugging my bottle of wine.
Chorus
Well, pain in my head, and bugs in my bed,
my pants so old that they shine
Out on the street, tell the people I meet:
Buy me a little bottle of wine!
Chorus (bis)