rolls up his cuffs
takes a few puffs
bourbon in ***** cups
weak though he looks tough

monotony has taken its toll
to be so young yet feel so old
silver tongues and wrists of gold
rich in misery, his soul is sold

passion vanished, duty in its place
acquiescence written all over his face
he likes to imagine he's got time to waste
but he's too far gone and tenfold disgraced