The last bar stool by the door
that is where i view the world from
Hey Mister Bartender friend, pour me another one
and that cute girl at the end needs another Rum.
It’s twelve O’clock and i am not ready to leave
I’ve worked my eight hours and i have nowhere important to go
perhaps a fight will find me tonight
or an ex-lover will come knocking and bring me to my knees.
Hey, here comes old Dick Malloy
once he was king of this town
a golden glove boxer and a champ in his youth
he can tell you his fights round by round
but now he lives in a carboard hotel.
And there is Mick, a shark if there ever was one
his tales of travel have everyone spellbound
he has the whole bar convinced he fought in ‘Nam
but the truth be known, he has been nowhere at all.
And poor old Connie our friendly barmaid
a hefty gal, she carries herself with pride
all she wants from tonight is a chance to get laid
Chris there talks a great game
his hockey carrear was cut suddenly short
he claims his leg went lame
but we all know Alcohol was to blame.
All of us in here have the same old story
We all carry the same curse
We love our drinks
We love to shoot the brezze
And we all are on the brink.
Some of us will swim
but most of us will sink.
So next time you walk into a joint like this
take a look around
and look for the guy on the bar stool by the door
perhaps it will be a good day and the story’s will flow
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