| Put some money in the jukebox and let it play |
| For my heart is cold with its pain |
| Take the cork from the bottle of a warm red wine |
| And fill my glass up, again |
| Fill my glass to the brim till it flows over the rim |
| Like the tears flow in this heart of mine |
| While I’ll sail so long to the dreams that are gone |
| On account of the warm red wine |
| Oh, the prison of stone with its cold iron bars |
| Is no more than a prison than mine |
| I’m a prisoner of drink who will never escape |
| From the chains of the warm red wine |
| Oh, the wine is red, so warm and red |
| Like a ruby, it sparkles and gleams |
| But I paid for the wine, the one red wine |
| With all of my hopes and dreams |