The Great American Bar Scene

I lost my money to some dirty old bookie

Way up in Philly, he was a bad man

But you can't bet your life on the table

When you've got yourself a bad hand

So I went and got my good friend, Mickey

And we made ourselves a bold stand

Wound up bleedin' on the bar floor

And we don't bet on ball no more

Where the bets are tough and bartenders mean

The Great American Bar Scene

My brother from Tulsa has got himself a warrant

But he's on the run-up in Cheyenne

They hemmed me up and asked me some questions

But I ain't no damn rat, man!

Put cuffs on so tight, he started bleedin'

From his wrist down through to his right hand

Put "State Trooper" on the record machine

The Great American Bar Scene

Neon lightin' and wooden floors lightly

As her feet quietly slide across

Tough boys have all came and went

She's heaven sent and I'm at a loss

So if you've got the time, I've got the quarter

And a two-steppin' song called 'Heyyy-Porter'

Why's love always feel like a fever dream?

In The Great American Bar Scene

My heart stays hurtin' and hands stay workin'

And I'm still just a sinnin' man

I've tried like hell to keep my health

Treat others well and understand

While life's unfair, uncertain and mean

In The Great American Bar Scene