They’re closing all the bars tonight!
At eight O’clock they all must close.
That’s not much time to tie one on,
Thou, for some, t’will do
I do suppose.

It hardly time enough for some
to obtain sufficient anodyne.
To insulate themselves from care
As viruses spread and stocks flat line.

I’m guessing some fights might ensue
As we all belly up to the bar.
Then stagger out in blue twilight
In a vain attempt to find our cars.

The plain girls I feel sorry for.
There’s insufficient time, I fear.
For their swains to have consumed enough
To make their inner beauty clear.