The story is a sad one, told many times The story of my life in trying times Just add water, stir in lime How the west was won and where it got us Blood from a stone Water from wine Born under an ill-placed design A stroke of bad luck, Wrong place, wrong

Hand over fist Only if you got it bad enough, oh, oh Oh, oh, it's too late to leave, too late to leave Stay to soften the blow To drink and to smoke My blood from a stone I do expect fortunes to fold To soften the blow