Dry Votin’ Wet Drinkers

I’m sittin’ in the jailhouse shackles on my feet
Drinkin black coffee and eatin’ fat meat
Lot’s of things going through my mind –
Justice must be blind

If we must have this pohadish
It should also be for the lawmakers
If we can’t drink why should they drink?
Welfare, ha, ha, ha, they’re fakers

Those dry votin’ wet drinkers
They think the Lord has selected them
One hand on the Bible, one hand on a bottle
Gosh, ain’t they pious men

Now Mr. John Handcock back to our day
Signed the declaration, but it don’t say
That there would be clauses, whitе collar clauses
How do they get that way?

What’s good for thе goose is good for the gander
Many a wolf hides in a sheepskin
We need less keepers, troublesome peepers
Always a buttin’ in

Those dry votin’ wet drinkers
They think the Lord has selected them
One hand on the Bible, one hand on a bottle
Gosh, ain’t they pious men

I didn’t do nothin’ but drink some gin
To keep my ribs from cavin’ in
They say we’re equal, equal in what?
Huh, somebody forgot!

If these dry votin’ wet drinkers
Would clean the trash from their own backyard
They’d find plenty rubbish and much garbage
In their own backyard

Those dry votin’ wet drinkers
They think the Lord has selected them
One hand on the Bible, one hand on a bottle
Gosh, ain’t they pious men

If I’d been one of the chosen lot
I’d have drunk my liquor in a safer spot
But I’m just a poor old workingman
I have to drink it where I can

I’ll stay in the jailhouse till I rot
I reckon I’m not of the chosen lot
They can change the law about liquor and wine
They’ll never change my mind

Those dry votin’ wet drinkers
They think the Lord has selected them
One hand on the Bible, one hand on a bottle
Gosh, ain’t they pious men