I kept a memory back from my early years

A boat out to Cyprus with the Scottish Fusiliers

I was two years old, I was barely alive

Already cruising 'bout with the Devil and a .45

I hear you've been straying over this side of town

Talking it up, walking your mouth around

But it's really not ok that you do like you do

The Devil's .45 is gonna wait for you

You, you, you, you, you are heading for a beatdown

Are you riding shotgun on the stage of broken dreams?

Ain't it funny how the ego can take you to extremes

And with the cards you hold I'm aurally not surprised

Choose between the Devil and a .45

Keep your false pretenses, keep your fancy clothes

Keep your airs and graces since I won't be needing those

Since I was two years old I was learning to survive

Keep on the right side of a .45