He drank so much wine last night,
I watched as he started to float!
Me, the laughing apprentice watched,
As he poured it down his throat!
It was probably the lack of sleep,
Which turned him to that Benden fine.
Or maybe it was those roasted wherries,
But I think it was the wine.
He'd always had a tuned guitar,
He'd always put us apprentices right
He never missed a beat in four,
Until last night.
Perhaps it was a score gone wrong,
That made him to such drink incline.
Or maybe it was a certain 'prentice,
But I think it was the wine.
He's always been careful,
Just what song to sing he chose.
But last night we heard him sing a tune,
Where he learned such words, no-one knows!
It might have been the scroll had slipped,
When he missed a line.
Or it might have been his aging eyes,
But I think it was the wine.
Master says a glass of wine is okay,
Though he'd have to have Tillek forcefed!
And Southern like Tillek is ropey,
But Benden's fine, so long as it is red.
Last night he lost his knot, his room, the hall!
And he failed to make it to chorus on time.
All the apprentices sniggered and laughed,
Knowing it must have been the wine!
