A Man of Influential Taste

Leaves 'em good n' dead n' stinkin'
With no witnesses at hand
Down on the darkside of the promised land
With connections in low places
And a gambler's third hand
He calls the tune to the violin band
He's got the Devil strolling by his side
Takes the songbirds for a ride
Slips a backhander to the man's inside
There's a place in his head
Where the planets collide

Well, his tongue is dripping silver
But it's silver plate
He's the landlord to the tenants
When the rent is late
But he puts the frightners on the magistrate
His time is much too precious to deliberate
He has a taste for the pinkest bud
Sugar and corruption
The poison flood
Runs the meanest engine under the hood
He knows enough language to be understood

Takes a little walk

Got the devil strolling by his side
Four and twenty songbirds taken for a ride
Backhanders for the man inside
The place in his head where the worlds collide
His cultivated taste for the pinkest bud
Sugar and corruption, the poison flood
The purr of that engine under the hood
He knows enough language
Knows enough language
Knows enough language
To be understood