Who am i to judge
With a bottle of whiskey
No champagne to hold a grudge
These sins seem to be deadly
Am i a spirit held to my own will
By fate i asked till this date
All time for me has stand still
Fueling me with all hate

Oh bottled gini
What wish can i get from you
The young boy ask happily
Can you show me love

He rubbed the lamp
And soon his life was to be damp
With his own blood
Death seems to have open a flood
Upon this young boy
Upon this young boy