There is no odysseynThere's no PenelopenJust maids and suitorsnTake this gun from menLet all the angels seenThis intoxicated, barely breathingnDebaucherynnAnd they all come marching innWith the mass artillerynAnd they won't consider theenYou're nothing but anCocktail hour with an open barnAnd the dance floor is begging for your feetnAnd the maids all ruminatenYour intentions dissipaten12 rounds for 12 shots at the barnYou just had to take