(to Micheál agus Michelle)

If you could see her after drinking wine,
Wine from Chile of the berry-red kind
Prancing ahead of me in the middle of the night
Through the business district with her face alight
Having left the pub late and a little tight.
Ah, if you could see her after drinking wine.

If you could see her after drinking wine.
Wine called Hoch from Germany's Rhine
Her hands like birds fluttering in flight
In a sugawn café when the day is high
Her voice louder than the crowd's by just a mite.
Oh, if you could see her after drinking wine.

If you could see her after drinking wine,
Beaujolais Nouveau, strawberries and cream
At a garden party under autumn's gleam
Her bike by the gate lost in a dream
Of the road home as the sun goes to sleep.
Ah, if you could see her after drinking wine.

If you could see her after drinking wine.
Wine from California's grape-fields fresh and new
Hopping through the Stack-of-Barley a bit askew
In her oh so new blue suede shoes.
If you could see her, as I see her, after drinking wine . . .