I make my money selling speakeasy gin

defying logic and law

every time the blind pig comes to take his cut

he wears a sickly look on his jaw



I know I've got a tarnished reputation

but man I sure can think on my toes

I know it's not the finest station in life 

but sometimes that''s how it goes



I am a man of low consequence

I rarely recognize my fill

but when I do I go to Ponchetrain

and spend a little time with my still



I am not qualified to evangelize

or to straighten crooked dice

but take it from your uncle call it bootlegger's advice

vices are the spices of my life