Come, you drunkards, stop your dreaming,
Can't you hear the bastards scheming
Overthrow of all of Riesling,
At your very door?
Men of Riesling all unsteady,
On your feet and at the ready,
Though it often has been said ye
Cannot find the floor.
Raise your glass and quaff it!
Your nightshirt you must doff it!
Leave your thoughts beside her cot,
But get your body off it!
Men of Riesling, into battle,
They are stealing all your cattle,
And your e'en more precious chattel,
Your wenches and your beer!
Stagger yon our fleeing foemen,
Drunken knights and drunken yeomen,
And some very drunken bowmen,
Tangled up with twine.
We'll pursue them and we'll harry
Them where'er they stop to tarry;
Another day they'll be more wary
Who they rob of wine!
Riesling, hear your duty!
They're fleeing with your booty!
Your wives you'll miss, but worse than this,
Of wine the swine would loot ye!
Let them have the fields and towers,
We'll defend the castks and bowers!
Castles fall, but nothing sours
Loving and good wine!
The West Kingdom History Website was created by and is maintained by Hirsch von Henford (mka Ken Mayer).