I’m no king of anything or a jester for the matter, in fact,

I split peas for dinner in the back alley of a crooked town

Double speak spilling from my lips to alley cats and stray dogs

Even the look on their crooked teeth says it all

And when it rains in this place yesterday’s newspaper covers my head

A little salt in these wounds should do just fine

I like the sting of bees and hydrogen peroxide

I drink and drink until the whiskey can sing

‘Cause I know I wouldn’t have it any other way

My embarrassing yelp or a plead for help

I do not know

Until the bottom of this bottle, and it’s left on the table;

Spinning and catching lovers just a I leave my seat

Just my luck-

My field coat and another fifth in this jacket pocket will help me forget

‘Cause I know I wouldn’t have it any other way