Sanctify the soulless, the sultry and the sot;
Renegades are renegades, in hell their hearts will rot
And I’ll be one among them, Baba among his thieves
But wither not, I’ll dither not like Adam with his eaves.
I can’t escape the fracas so fricassee will be
The menu of my heart with my blood the gravy sea,
But falter not for Walter, nor for Raleigh on the way
To the falter of the halter on the steamy Orlean’s quay.
Squash the squash, and wash the wash, it’s pain for pain in pay
If you’re working on the railroad every blasted livelong day,
Or Astor’s appellation is the Hancock from your pen:
This life is just a playground round and round as we all spin.
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