I make my money selling speakeasy gin   defying logic and law   every time the blind pig comes to take his cut   he wears a sickly look on his jaw      I know I''ve got a tarnished reputation   but man I sure can think on my toes   I know it''s not the finest station in life    but sometimes that''s how it goes      I am a man of low consequence   I rarely recognize my fill   but when I do I go to Ponchetrain   and spend a little time with my still      I am not qualified to evangelize   or to straighten crooked dice   but take it from your uncle call it bootlegger''s advice   vices are the spices of my life