The scene: Kris Kristofferson is on a massive drunk, so drunk he can barely stagger onstage. He decides to cover one of his own early hits...and screws up the words...resulting in...

The Worst Of All Possible Covers

I was runnin' thru a patch of rain, try'n' to catch a snatch of Spain
And kill the old familiar pain a-weavin' thru my tangled brain
When I tipped my bottle back and smacked into a cop I didn't see
That police man said, "Mister Cool, if you ain't drunk, then you're a fool."
I said, "If that's against the law, then tell me why I never saw
A man locked in that jail of yours who wasn't neither black or poor as me?"
Well, that was when someone turned out the lights
And I wound up in jail to spend the night
And dream of all the wine and lonely lovers
In this worst of all possible covers.

(That don't sound right?...is there somethin' wrong with this F-in mike? Huh? Oh...)

Well, I woke up next mornin' feelin' like my head was gone
And like my thick old tongue was lickin' something sick and wrong
And I told that man I'd sell my soul for something wet and cold as that old cell.
That kindly jailer grinned at me, all eaten up with sympathy
Then poured himself another beer and came and whispered in my ear,
"If booze was just a dime a bottle boy, you couldn't even buy the smell"
I said, "I knew there was something I liked about this town."
But it takes more than that to bring me down, down, down.
'Cause there's still a lot of wine and lonely lovers
In this worst of all possible (hic!) covers

(*Shit, it still don't sound right. What verse are we on... Right. Wa-a-al, shit...*) (*Urp!!!)

Well, they finally came and told me they was a gonna set me free
And I'd be leavin' town if I knew what was good for me
I said, "It's nice to learn that ev'rybody's so concerned about my health."
(God knows, it could be better...)
I said, "I won't be leavin' no more quicker than I can
'Cause I've enjoyed about as much of this as I can stand
And I don't need this town of yours more than I never needed nothin' else."
'Cause there's still alot of drinks that I ain't drunk
And lots of pretty thoughts that I ain't thunk
And lord there's still so many lonely lovers
In this worst of all possible covers
Now I think my tale of woe is almost done
I think my weary race is almost run, run, run
But there's still a lot of wine and lonely lovers
In this worst of all possible covers.

(*Jee-SUS, that's it! I declare this gig over as of NOW. Who the hell took my F-in DRINK!!!)

- LH