You can take a snake's poison, leave him with his fangs
You can take a rogue's handgun, leave him with his hands
But you've still got a cobra, and you've still got a thief
And nobody knows it better than Mickey McKeith
The cops took his pistol, and bagged it as evidence
Gamblin' father, junky mother, Mickey was bred to chance
But he'd been feeding them habits so long we figured he'd never get caught
He'd chance everything we needed and we'd buy anything else he'd got
A rogue by any other name is still a rogue
And the blood runs thick round here and red as rose
To hold the broken parts of hearts when one of our own
Goes one of the only two ways we always go
But a thief's life is stolen time
Oh, they're gonna lock you up,
Mickey, for a long time.
And 'round here, Mickey, all anyone's been talking 'bout
Is how we should club the cop that cuffed you, steal his keys, and break you out
But we'll raise a glass instead to your name again like people 'round here do.
We mean it when we say we'll bust you out, Mickey, I swear we do,
We just got too much to lose.
Too much to lose.
They say you'd let anybody fill your glass but no one your boots..
You'd let anybody fill your glass but no one your boots..
And anybody'd fill your glass but no one your boots..
We've all got too much to lose.