A fine wine’s not for us; we want cheap red In paper cups beneath the apple trees with cheese and bread upon the grasses spread And you singing along each merry breeze
This fine day’s made for us; we want to kiss Creation as we kiss each other’s lips In celebration of sweet summer bliss While soft away the dreamy twilight slips
Our fine moon’s rising, silvering the air - She tells us we have kisses yet to share
Reactionarydrivel.blogspot.com – it’s not really reactionary, tho’ it might be drivel.