MAYBE MADAM MADE HIM
Never knowing what happens in the house of ill repute,
they're playing once again the blues. House of the Rising
Sun and all the rest. I splashed my Jack Daniels against
the deck of that porch and started fighting with that guy :
he'd proclaimed himself the winner of a single-man contest.
I didn't know even a touch of what he meant, but was just
tired of hearing his shit. If you've ever fought with a broken
bar-bottle, you must know what I mean. The feeling's intense.
Nothing much came of it - drunks aren't good at anything - but
I walked away proud I stood up for something. Problem was,
in my stuporific haze, I hadn't a clue what it might have been.