Nettle wine

In my country garden, underneath the mountain
With dead-nettles growing all around the door
Early every morning the sun comes up the mountain
Setting in the sea in the evening once more.

Take some water from the brook
Wondering who it was that took the stones from the mountain to build the cottage here
Two up and two down, miles from the nearest town
I wonder who it was but the reason why is clear

Take a bunch of nettles, add a little water
Drawn from the stream running outside the door
Leave it for a month or two, bottle it and drink the brew
Watch the suns go down in the sea once more.

Take some wood to build a fire
Could you really get much higher than standing in the doorway with a glass of nettle wine
My lady beside me, the mountain behind me
Before me the sea and the red skyline.