My occupation's primitive as apes:
It's stomping barefoot in a vat of grapes
Just tromp around until the juice escapes,
runs through a line -- I make the wine.
Insured with Lloyd's of London, these ten toes,
they are my livelihood, and Heaven knows
Without them I'd be just like other Joes
Wear shoe size nine -- I make the wine.
Work for this grand old fashioned winery
They've got the best vineyards in Italy
I respect them and they are proud of me
It ferments fine -- I make the wine.
After a long hard day, my feet have pain
I wash them good, but can't erase the stain
The color purple always will remain
my trademark sign -- I make the wine.
If you're quite fond of Italian cuisine
Dine at a Roman restaurant, quaint, serene
Have wine and in the glass toenails are seen,
|: they could be mine -- I make the wine :|