…
Well, the night does funny things inside a man
These old tomcat feelings you don’t understand
Well, I turn around to look at you, you light a cigarette
I wish I had the guts to bum one, but we’ve never met
Disclaimer: his voice is “like it was soaked in a vat of bourbon, left hanging in the smokehouse for a few months, and then taken outside and run over with a car.”
