I'm not in prison but I'm a prisoner of affection And I have everything I want but I have none of it on me Cover me with faith in a shroud of shame I'm draped And shoot me up with lies that's one of Strawman's lines And you can call me arrogant but I'm better than that lonely drunk and fat Late night and mind's filled the last of my wine Spilled it's seven minutes past two o' clock My latest brush with bad luck.