Texty: Assembly of Dust. Bootlegger's Advice.

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