The Nine Lives of Malloy Lyrics by Fred Rand

An engineer of second rate
Never content with only water or lemonade
He made a living for the bottle down in Fulton Avenue
Whatever he could get in the prohibition queue

Five good men, as good as he could see them
Looking for a way to make him worth his meat
He would call them all his brothers, trust them all his bothers
All but a boozer with no future or call

"We don't want you here if your worth could be invoked"
"We don't want you here if your soul could yield us gold"

They took him down, speakeasy ground
Though he got no money he could have all the rounds
Have a drink on the house, every house in the town
Have a bottle for the road, all that you can down

The bottles kept on coming, the content kept on going
How the five would never know
Well, we've got a boozer with an A plus in carousal
It's only fuel to the fire, only fuel to the fire

What can we do to take him out?
We got a contract on his body, we must make sure it will pay out
Whiskey or gin, oysters on a rim
A poisoned tack sandwich, that should do him in

Leave him to the winter, subzero twenty-six
A barrel of cold water, that should do the trick
But Iron Mike persisted, Iron Mike would never go
Even taxis on the charge couldn't wipe him off the floor

Finally his brothers of the policy pact
Tired of his stubborn will to never die
Cranking up the artillery with a hose to a gas jet
Leave him in the bedroom and the death scene is set

An execution second rate
They couldn't get him to expire merely by ethanol bait
Then the justice caught them on their tail
Where did you get the money? Explain it from the jail

"We don't want you here if your goal is reaping souls"
"You wouldn't want to fear for your lives, nor would Malloy"

"We do want to be clear, even bums can earn their roles"

[Thanks to dotoar for adding these lyrics]