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Myrra

Anna Myrra Malmberg (born 20 December 1966) is a Swedish singer, songwriter, and photographer. more »

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Hoodi Doodie
Det deilige røde lille bær
Du henger der og smiler til meg
Du lille fugl, med nye fjær
Spis litt youghurt med en skje
Hoodi Doodie
Det deilige røde lille bær
Du henger der og smiler til meg
Du lille fugl ,med nye fjær
Spis litt youghurt med en skje
Hoodi Doodie
Det deilige røde lille bær
Du henger der og smiler til meg
Du lille fugl, med nye fjær
Spis litt youghurt med en skje
Hoodi Doodie
Det deilige røde lille bær
Du henger der og smiler til meg
Du lille fugl, med nye fjær
Spis litt youghurt med en skje
Lille bærrrrrrrrrrrr
Lille fugl med røde bær
Alle menn med røde knær
Noen kjenner militær
Jeg vil føle mine klær
Meursalt and pepper
We should all be shepherds
The missing grand cru
No soup for you
Such a shame too
Queue up for the last few
The camps outside the main shops
In sleeping tents and camping cots
Outside the store, where the wines are sold
The seekers of the finest I am told
With shelves stacked high, a bounty to see
A wonderland of wines, waiting for me
I roam the aisles, reading every label
Tasting notes, a journey on a fable
From regions far, where grapes do grow
To bottles rare, a vintage aglow
I ponder and I muse, on what to choose
For a special occasion, or a night with news
A bold red, or a crisp white, a drink so bright
A perfect match, with the meal tonight
And so I buy, with a joyous heart
A bottle of wine, to play its part
For in the buying of this drink so true
A memory is made, and forever new
With every sip we drink, a tale is spun
of vineyards basked in the sun, the grapes are done
With love and care, picked from the vine
and crafted with skill, to taste divine
Each vintage has its own unique flair
A flavor that takes us to a place to fair
From bold and robust, to light and sweet
the taste of wine, is a treat to eat
Yet in this vineyard of excess, a bitter taste remains
For the humble grape is shrouded, in commercial chains
Marketed and sold, its essence dismissed
An angry echo resounds, within the morning mist
The corporate giants loom, their greed well-known
Forcing out the artisans, from their rightful throne
In our cups of glass, now lies deceit
A hollow victory, a false defeat
Who profits from this game, this ill-begotten gain
The rich grow richer, whilst the farmers bear the strain
Robbed of their toil, their passion, their art
The pain of their loss, strikes us right in the heart
In our quest for the finest, we've lost our way
The wine world is stained, with shades of grey
No longer a tribute, to the humble grape
But a ruthless industry, where the innocent gape
So, let's raise a toast, to the true vintner's craft
To the ancient traditions, that are now so daft
May we find our way, back to respect and truth
Now that's a beauty. this I´ll keep for 25 years

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