Friends and strangers come together,
seeking solace, laughter, life
They gather round a common table,
where mine is yours and yours is mine
Everyone comes empty, hungry,
the host has plenty of food and wine

The life of the party has plenty of wine

The celebration turns to frenzy,
the food and drink are going fast
Some women worry while the others grumble,
tiny sips will make it last
The thirsty clamor for a quenching,
first in line they won’t be passed

Empty bottles line the tables,
the vestiges of vineyard’s yield
The people fear the party’s ending,
the grapes have left the gardener’s field
But in he walks with barrels bulging,
can’t understand the power he wields

The fruit of the vine is yours and its mine
his barrels of wine, they never decline

This fermented fruit gives freedom
How can it be that death gives life?