I was born my papa's son. A wanderin' eye and a smokin' gun. Now some of you would live through me. Lock me up and throw away the key. Or just find a place to hide away. Hope that I'll just go away. I feel alright – I feel alright tonight. I'll bring you precious contraband. And ancient tales from distant lands. Of conquerors and concubines and. Conjurers from darker times. Betrayal and conspiracy. Sacrilege and heresy. I got every thing you wont or need. Your darkest fear your fondest dream. I ask you questions tell you lies. Criticize and sympathize. Be careful what you wish for friend. Because I've been to hell and now I'm back again