Gansett Jack

Here's Gansett Jack
You never know what he packs
With a rusty revolver In his truck
wishing he had money for
some shine and some crack
He's a man with a silver beard
Toothless, lawless and feared
He comes your way night or day
Humming an old mariner song
While dreaming of a pretty girl
Wearing a wet shirt and a thong
In one hand he has a cig
In the other a piss warm beer
Even the devil steers clear
A menacing presence
built like a bull
His eyes are black and dull
He begs for a bit of change
With an intimidating grin
And a hint of the cheapest gin
an excessive insistence
He's 100 proof of a miserable
Human existence