As gray as a monarch, the moments I pass
The whisky bottle is my globe and the specter is my glass
My table is my throne, and the bar room is my court
The bi-whore is my subject and drinking is my sport

Don't look for me in daylight, we're robots all assembled
You'll find me in my dark world, in my smoke filled temple
Whiskey breath and painted women bring me to my senses
Prostitutes and loaded guns 'cause trouble is my business
Guns, bitches, brawls