Where it all ends I can't fathom, my friends. If I knew, I might toss out my anchor.
Yes, I am a pirate two hundred years too late.
I have been drunk now for over two weeks.
You've been acting like Jesus owes you a favor, but he's a little smart for you to fool.
I made a deal with the devil for a whole lot of money.
My head hurts, my feet stink, and I don't love Jesus. It's that kind of morning.