Dreams to memories, memories to ghosts The future cannot repay the past If the devil burrowed up and killed the host Perhaps then this whiskey would be my last. But I haven't seen him yet and that's just fine Because I cannot stop and there's a reason why I'll tell the truth, I hope you don't mind: The whole world's a bore when I am dry. For sober I am a man without a rumor of a future or promise or even a home Drunk I am a prince, a jape of good humor A king on his barstool, a drunk on his throne. The past chases and the future runs away So don't take my whiskey, whatever you do For I am deathly afraid of the terrible day When I stop dreaming and become like you.