The wine to us which nature gave
Has entered the head to cause a rave
Tapping and tapping without ceasing
The wine pours on every season
This wine so sweet and money spinning
Causes injury deep and hard healing
Before the tapper discovered the tree
We had our barns and we were free
To plough and plough and till the land
And reap from the sweet of our hand
Then, came the tapper and showed his light
We joined the race to reach the height
Like a giant on nimble feet
We gloat over our anthill feat
Swayed by the illusion of our sudden height
We're burning out the sticks that bear the light
Didn't we climb with him to watch him tap?
Yet, learnt not how to cut the sap
Climbing down the tree to tap the wine
The tapper carries his hook, pipe and line
Siphoning our wine we cry and whine
But cannot seize the line to brace a climb
The best of the wine he drinks with smiles
Only leaving behind the shit and grime
This tree one day shall wilt and die
And the tapper gone back to his home to lie
Then shall our hands be too heavy to wield a how
And the barns too empty we cannot sow
We shall sip and suck and spoil the sap
Of a tree shrunken like an old woman's lap
I love the African Palm wine for its the best natural wine, the fresh wine that needs no preservatives or additional substances, a pure direct wine from the palm, and ever ready to be served