Hiya what can i get you?
fingers tap on the polished wood
of the bar they sit in front of
Their faces sag
like the coats they shrug off
lowering their old bones into chairs

two jamesons please
gentlemen hands fumble for wallets
for money
for the sweetheart
easing an old mans' troubles
with ice and a measure of whiskey
behind the bar

that's nine dollars twenty
thankyou my darling
a crisp new note in a weathered old hand
thats an old hand at weathering life
you're welcome

into the whiskey they sigh
away an old man's aches
I polish the glasses
while they polish
their glasses
and polish off
glasses
of whiskey.