There is no odyssey There's no Penelope Just maids and suitors Take this gun from me Let all the angels see This intoxicated, barely breathing Debauchery
And they all come marching in With the mass artillery And they won't consider thee You're nothing but a Cocktail hour with an open bar And the dance floor is Begging for your feet The maids all the ruminate Your intentions dissipate 12 rounds for 12 shots at the bar You just had to take
