SHE SANG HIM “BOTTLE OF WINE”
(“Bottle of Wine” music and lyrics by Tom Paxton ©1963, 1968 United Artists Music Co., Inc.;
Spoken words/accompanying music by Hali Hammer ©2012 )
Bottle of wine, fruit of the vine, when you gonna let me get sober?
Leave me alone, let me go home, let me go back & start over…
It was right ‘round noon on a crisp fall day in 1972
Oaks lost their leaves to the chilly breeze as the dust in a cold gust blew
At City Hall Park, downtown New York, in the center of the square
Folks relaxed on the benches, ate their lunch, had a restful moment there
She drew in her poncho, blew out a breath, the wind was all awhirl
She was kind of naïve, nothing up her sleeve, just a cute little hippie girl
With a smile on her face she unlatched her case, pulled a pick from her ragged jeans
Offered her heart along with her art as she started to play and sing:
Ramblin’ round this dirty old town, singin’ for nickels and dimes
Time’s getting rough, I ain’t got enough to buy a little bottle of wine
She played that sweet Tom Paxton tune in the hopes of a dollar or two
She’d been strumming about half an hour or so when a form stumbled into view
Rheumy eyes set back in a dirt-etched face, matted hair, shower overdue
Grimy and gruff and his shoes were stuffed with layers of yesterday’s news
They shared a moment of interest, she acknowledged him, gave him a nod
Didn’t say a word, but she held his gaze as again she sang that song:
Pain in my head, bugs in my bed, pants are so old that they shine
Out on the street tell the people I meet, won’t you buy me a bottle of wine?
He walked up to her and his gravelly voice said, “Thanks for playing for me –
That song you sang brought tears to my eyes” – Then he turned and shuffled away
Bottle of wine, fruit of the vine, when you gonna let me get sober?
Leave me alone, let me go home, let me go back & start over
A few weeks later on the Lower East Side with her sticker-strewn case in tow
On the subway stairs she heard a shout, and her feet began to slow
She turned around, and that man she found in a circle of his tribe
Passing around a brown-paper bag with who-knew-what inside
“Can you sing that song for my friends?” he asked so she pulled out her guitar
The lyrics echoed in the vestibule, the response made her feel like a star
Little hotel, older than hell, cold and dark as a mine
Blanket so thin, I lay there and grin, I got a little bottle of wine
She sang another tune and took a swig ‘cause she didn’t want to offend
She played to that crowd, the applause was loud when her concert came to an end
Soon afterward she went on her way, it had been a great exchange
She wanted to play cause it made their day – cause she gave them a bit of change.
Bottle of wine, fruit of the vine, when you gonna let me get sober?
Leave me alone, let me go home, let me go back & start over