If it was raining whiskey by the shot
And you could keep
All of it that you caught
As sure as little piggy’s tails are pork
I’d be standing holding
Nothing but a fork

‘Cause a one-legged man
Is bound to fail
If he tries to win a prize
At kicking tails
That’s the same lopsided odds
That I keep bucking
If I married a hooker she’d quit fucking

If I were shipwrecked
On some desert isle
With a hundred naked women Running wild
Before they’d run their fingers Through my hair
I’d probably fall asleep
And wake up queer