Оригинален текст
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