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