It greets your nose with mixture of smoke, perfume and stale beer.
On the counter , an empty pickle jar , a few dollars in there.
Always a need for that jar , times get rough,
it's  a way we help friends and pray it never is us.
Band is setting up and sound checks going right,
few folks already here, going to be a good night.
Folks come in here to take a load off  for awhile,
some come to sip, others to get plum wild.
Barmaid looking good with that pushup bra,
boy got lucky and married her last fall.
Six days a week this bar rocks and rolls
and true to the good Lord  on Sunday we closed.
A few new boys and gals here to night,
pitching pick up lines, one might be right.
Someone will get lucky and cross that line,
someone will be in luck, get drunk  but leave the car for the night.
This old bar is a meet and greet place,
information gets passed and memories erased.
Cookouts in the back for a charity or two.
Bike wash, car wash, a  flash of skin might happen too.
All in all, this place fits us all,
I'm glad to say that I am a part of this old bar.