My lips grow dry awaiting your pleasure,
My hands they itch to pull you close,
to raise you up high, my light, my treasure
And to the tavern propose a toast
And to the world proclaim my lust
Reunited consummate joy
And drain you I will, as drain you I must
Though my heart and soul you destroy
Another round of my love, I'm buying
to banish pain, bow to old ghosts.
Another round of my love, I'm dying
To spirits and generous hosts.