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