Oh sweet golden nectar, contained in my glass
Cool as ice, but warms the lips it does pass
The colour of Russian gold mixed with honey
The scent is so full, like the smell of new money

It warms like a hug on a cold winter night
Slides down your throat with barely a fight
The taste is so sweet it reminds you of sex
Those intimate moments and kisses on necks

A little will warm you right down to you toes
Too much by the fire will cause you to doze
Indulge much further and your mind is lost
Like as a glass is warmed it loses its frost

It’s drunk by the world of riches and fame
But with its sweet golden taste who is to blame
Movie star and sings like the blue eyed Frank
Its enjoy by the world, and by every rank

It’s made by a family in the deep of Tennessee
But seems to be created just to be drunk by me
Its bottle is inviting with its label so black
What would I do with out my good friend Jack?