I've been a troubled man,
had my fair share of sorrows,
might have caught a glimpse of me clutching an empty bottle.

Singing my desperados,
higher than a swallow,
when you leave a trail of destruction, who knows what else will follow.

Oh how I wept and wilt,
and wilt and wallowed,
when I had learned this body is not mine, it's just for me to borrow.