Must (from the Latin vinum mustum, "young wine") is freshly pressed fruit juice (usually grape juice) that contains the skins, seeds, and stems of the fruit. The solid portion of the must is called pomace; it typically makes up 7–23% of the total weight of the must. Making must is the first step in winemaking. Because of its high glucose content, typically between 10 and 15%, must is also used as a sweetener in a variety of cuisines. Unlike commercially sold grape juice, which is filtered and pasteurized, must is thick with particulate matter, opaque, and comes in various shades of brown and/or purple.
The length of time that the pomace stays in the juice is critical for the final character of the wine. When the winemaker judges the time to be right, the juice is drained off the pomace, which is then pressed to extract the juice retained by the matrix. Yeast is added to the juice to begin the fermentation, while the pomace is often returned to the vineyard or orchard to be used as fertilizer. A portion of selected unfermented must may be kept as Süssreserve, to be added prior to bottling as a sweetening component. Some winemakers create a second batch of wine from the used pomace by adding a quantity of water equivalent to the juice removed, letting the mixture sit for 24 hours, and draining off the liquid. This wine may be used as a drink for the employees of the winemaker or as a basis for some pomace brandies. Grappa, however, by law, must be produced only from the pomace solids, with no water added.
She said, would you like to see me
Naked in your living room
Straddling your hips
And losing it over you?
We could do it all night
If you think you're man enough.
Well I looked her in the eye and I said,
pretty little thing, you read my mind
Gather your things, we headed back to mine.
I came here looking for a girl of your kind
For a one night stand to be satisfied.
She said, i've got the urge alright
And I want to let it ride
Tonight, tonight, tonight.
C'mon show me that you're worthy,
Show me that you want me bad enough.
Well your seething look of lust dictates
She is the love of my life
And we like to play games at night
To act like strangers
To let fantasy run wild
To use the imagination