From a thousand bottles of wine
You choose one depending on its label
How does it taste, sweet or dry?
It’s just like your sense of good and evil
You want to pour me out your wine
But my glass is filled with a different kind
Don’t tell me to try it again
Because I know it’s an inferior grade
You may feel proud of your choice
But your words about it just make me annoyed
You can enjoy that as weak as water
Never know about anything better and stronger
When you can share a bottle with me
It should be unfamiliar to me
Not when, where, by whom it was made
I care only how it tastes
You may feel proud of your choice
But your words about it just make me annoyed
You can enjoy that as weak as water
Never know about anything better and stronger
Spirits in my glass
It’s distilled from my life
Spirits in my glass
It’s my desire to be wise
