It's my fathers' voice dreaming of sailors sailin' off in the mornin'
For the air-conditioned rooms at the top of the stairs
His jaw's been broken, his bandage is wrapped too tight
His fangs have been pulled and I really wanna see you tonight
There's bourbon on the breath of the singer you love so much
And it makes no difference to me
How they cried all over on the seas
When it's hot in the poor places tonight
I'm not goin' outside
Fill: Relative to Capo of course
Trepal