A place that is rarely closed,
And welcomes all with their woes,
With a light and a beer,
Everyone is equal and entitled here,
The Pouncer Briest and his menagerie,
Opens the door to freaks and geeks to partake in the breath seeing pageantry,
Say nothing at all or all too much,
And leave when you want,
You won't hear a curse or a taunt,
The neon lights are faded ideals that have been all but snuffed oot,
Half the draw and 50% of the appeal,
That brings our lost souls with lanterns to forget what we feel,
Enough food for thought,
withoot ever getting a free meal,
And nothing feels really real,
So put on your masks and keep your names,
Have a smoke and a beer to forget the pains,
Come one, come all,
The Sanctuary has placed the call.