The sweet taste of victory

Is contained in Bacardi.

I lost my wife down the reddened trail

Of ginger and a whole lot of ale.

My children went with her, bless their souls,

I washed them away – It’s how the rum rolls.

I killed a man by flipping his car over a rail,

The cops say I shouldn’t have had that last cocktail.

I’ve been in jail for seventeen years,

With every drink pouring out my ears.

I refilled my soul with a drink of the vine,

And fought with another over a bottle of wine.

Now I’m alone and old with nothing to gain.

Dry your eyes – I’ll be in champagne.