Homemade Wine from Homemade Wine by Penelope Swales

Homemade Wine
© Penelope Swales

I’m not convinced
That I should try to teach you
How to speak my language
Coz even if it does exist
You’ll walk a long way to find
Someone else who speaks that language
And I watch your hand curled around your glass
And I watch you smile into the firelight, yeah
She’s drinkin’ homemade wine

Oh I’m not convinced
That I should try to tell you
What I mean
I watch your eyes, I watch your glass
I watch you smile into the firelight
Smile into the night

And wonder what strange journey I could take you on
If you were not so firmly grounded
In this world of soil, of life and toil
And homemade wine

Homemade wine
Courses through my veins
Runnin’ rings around my brain
And I feel a gulf
A yawning void and wonder
Now, is that really there?
When you look into a good friend’s face
And see death
Into your lover’s eyes
And find no understanding there
It holds the bitterness of death

Years later, you stare into the fire
Curled up like a cat
In your homemade haven
And I watch your eyes
I watch my glass
I feel the void and wonder
Now, is that really there?

Wonder what strange journey I could take you on
Of you were not so firmly grounded
In this world of soil
Of cars and bars and work and pasta
Dogs and laughter
And olives pickled in oil
And don’t forget that homemade wine
Don’t forget that homemade wine
And I, I wanna scream
I wanna shout
I wanna shake you
And cry – “Listen, listen, listen!
This sweet life of yours
It will not last
It is slipping, slipping away
Slipping into the past,
And it’s so precious”

But you know that
Yeah, you know that
And I know that
So pour me some more homemade wine
While I sit and grieve
For an old dead friend of mine
Fading fast, fading into the past
It’s been a long time now
And it’s only gonna get longer
Longer since I saw him last
Only gonna get longer since I last heard him laugh.

• Acoustic
• Australian
• Contemporary Folk
• female
• female vocalist
• indie folk
• political
• singer-songwriter
• Boolarra