There is no odyssey
There's no Penelope
Just maids and suitors
Take this gun from me
Let all the angels see
This intoxicated, barely breathing
Debauchery

And they all come marching in
With the mass artillery
And they won't consider thee
You're nothing but a
Cocktail hour with an open bar
And the dance floor is begging for your feet
And the maids all ruminate
Your intentions dissipate
12 rounds for 12 shots at the bar
You just had to take