...as in "phony"
Whenever he talks about gambling
You'll quickly begin to hear rambling
The whiskies, the beers
You can nearly taste his tears
As he gets deeper into his babbling
This "best there's ever been"
You'll ask "who, how, what, where & when
But within his mind
He's quite the find
Cause he's really a boy up against men
Went broke in Nevady
And don't know his daddy
Oh, his life's been in such dis-array
So he makes up his stories
Of gleaming past glories
Keeps his head from just spinning away
What's a gambler to do
When his bankroll goes poo
And his "AP" fails him badly
Why....move to Montana!
In search of Hannah?
Nope--it's back to machines again sadly
Six figures a year
Playin' keno/drinkin' beer
Yup--he can now make it up on the go
Hell, he's got no skills
Drinks Moose Drool for thrills
But are his writings inspired by blow?
Now fading in wealth
And fading in health
His binges create threats and cursing
Been banned far and wide
With nowhere to hide
This loser pho's life needs reversing
And so goes this myth
One as common as Smith
As he tries hard to build up his image
But as we all know
He just puts on his show
Always needing to restart from scrimmage
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