Drunkard.
Womanizer.
Killer.
That's just a few of the things they call me. I'm a drunkard, so what? It's not like I hurt them by drinking. It's not like they get a hangover when I'm drunk. I wonder if they ever asked themselves why I drink. I wonder if they really want to know. I don't drink to drown my sorrows, I don't drink to forget. I drink to numb my senses; I drink to make the pain a little easier, if only for a while. Some wise guy said that drinking doesn't solve anything. He was right, it doesn't. But does it help me to know that? No. Will I stop drinking because of that? No. Unless you have some better way to handle this, I'll keep drinking. After all, booze is the only thing that hasn't let me down yet.
No, that's not true. There's Tseng, too. That man has never let me down, and I don't think he will. Call it intuition, but I know he'd never let me down if he could do something to prevent it. Did you know, he's the one that picked me up out of the gutter, and placed me in the Turks? The Turks; Rude, Elena and Tseng. The only family I have, and the only people that matters to me. Tseng can be a bit demanding, and he's probably the hardest taskmaster to ever see the light of day, but I'd follow him to hell. I know that Rude and Elena feel the same. He's the one who keeps us together.
Womanizer. Yeah, that's me. But what's so bad about it? The women ain't complaining, are they? So I get more chicks than you do. Tough luck, you'll just have to work harder then. I don't hurt you by being a womanizer, do I? They complain about my clothes too. I really don't see why. So, I don't wash my clothes. I have a reason. People think that if you don't wash your clothes regularly, and drink and swear worse than Cid Highwind on a bad day, you're stupid. If you let them think you're stupid, it'll be easier to kill them later.
Killer. That's what I am; it's what I do for a living. Don't get me wrong, I don't kill for pleasure, or because I am incredibly evil. I do it because it's the only thing I know how to do. I kill because I'm ordered to. But if you can look me in the eye, down the barrel of my gun, and tell me `Yeah, kill me you bastard.ยด, I'll be happy to oblige. It hasn't happened yet, though. I have still to meet someone who really, really, wants to die. You ask how I can live with myself after killing so many. I just do. I've done and seen things that'd make you wet your pants, so why should the mere act of killing someone cause me any trouble? Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt.
You don't respect me, but that's ok. You have no compassion for me, but a few of you pity me. I don't care. I don't need your respect, I don't need your compassion, I don't need your pity. I don't care whether you agree with what I'm doing or not, as long as you don't get in the way of my work. Sure, respect me if it makes you feel like the bigger man, pity me if it makes you feel better, but don't you dare try and change my way of living. I like it this way, and let's face it; you don't care enough about me to change it.
Respect me, pity me, go down on your knees and worship me for all I care. Call me drunk, call me womanizer, call me killer, I won't give a damn. After all, that's what I am, ain't no doubt about it, so why should I complain? Of course you know me better than I do, so who am I to argue?
I call me Reno, and in the end, that's the only thing that matters.
After all, I'm the one who lives this life.
Womanizer.
Killer.
That's just a few of the things they call me. I'm a drunkard, so what? It's not like I hurt them by drinking. It's not like they get a hangover when I'm drunk. I wonder if they ever asked themselves why I drink. I wonder if they really want to know. I don't drink to drown my sorrows, I don't drink to forget. I drink to numb my senses; I drink to make the pain a little easier, if only for a while. Some wise guy said that drinking doesn't solve anything. He was right, it doesn't. But does it help me to know that? No. Will I stop drinking because of that? No. Unless you have some better way to handle this, I'll keep drinking. After all, booze is the only thing that hasn't let me down yet.
No, that's not true. There's Tseng, too. That man has never let me down, and I don't think he will. Call it intuition, but I know he'd never let me down if he could do something to prevent it. Did you know, he's the one that picked me up out of the gutter, and placed me in the Turks? The Turks; Rude, Elena and Tseng. The only family I have, and the only people that matters to me. Tseng can be a bit demanding, and he's probably the hardest taskmaster to ever see the light of day, but I'd follow him to hell. I know that Rude and Elena feel the same. He's the one who keeps us together.
Womanizer. Yeah, that's me. But what's so bad about it? The women ain't complaining, are they? So I get more chicks than you do. Tough luck, you'll just have to work harder then. I don't hurt you by being a womanizer, do I? They complain about my clothes too. I really don't see why. So, I don't wash my clothes. I have a reason. People think that if you don't wash your clothes regularly, and drink and swear worse than Cid Highwind on a bad day, you're stupid. If you let them think you're stupid, it'll be easier to kill them later.
Killer. That's what I am; it's what I do for a living. Don't get me wrong, I don't kill for pleasure, or because I am incredibly evil. I do it because it's the only thing I know how to do. I kill because I'm ordered to. But if you can look me in the eye, down the barrel of my gun, and tell me `Yeah, kill me you bastard.ยด, I'll be happy to oblige. It hasn't happened yet, though. I have still to meet someone who really, really, wants to die. You ask how I can live with myself after killing so many. I just do. I've done and seen things that'd make you wet your pants, so why should the mere act of killing someone cause me any trouble? Been there, done that, bought the T-shirt.
You don't respect me, but that's ok. You have no compassion for me, but a few of you pity me. I don't care. I don't need your respect, I don't need your compassion, I don't need your pity. I don't care whether you agree with what I'm doing or not, as long as you don't get in the way of my work. Sure, respect me if it makes you feel like the bigger man, pity me if it makes you feel better, but don't you dare try and change my way of living. I like it this way, and let's face it; you don't care enough about me to change it.
Respect me, pity me, go down on your knees and worship me for all I care. Call me drunk, call me womanizer, call me killer, I won't give a damn. After all, that's what I am, ain't no doubt about it, so why should I complain? Of course you know me better than I do, so who am I to argue?
I call me Reno, and in the end, that's the only thing that matters.
After all, I'm the one who lives this life.