Lyrics - Life at the Bar
Copyright © 2005 BFH
LIFE AT THE BAR
Words & music by Jon Tonge
Copyright © 2004
Well I was born for a life at the bar
Where the sun don't even come out ‘til after noon
And your friends are always waitin'
In some romantic vision of youth
Like horses outside an old saloon
So if you're wonderin' why I act this way
Why I never got very far
I was born for a life at the bar
The neon lights have always been a friend of mine
Without them neon lights
It'd be so damn dark you'd think you were blind
I just could not manage, though you know I tried so hard
I never could escape from this bar
So if you're wonderin' why I act this way
Why I never got very far
I was born for a life at the bar
Well these barstools sit just like church pews on Sunday to me
At the alter of a God I no longer see
And this tip jar is just an offering plate
To a man with a southern drawl
Who oversees the ceremonies at the bar
So if you're wonderin' why I act this way
Why I never got very far
I was born for a life at the bar
Well these chairs look like gravestones out in the yard
Oh the final resting place for the lonely and tired
This broken glass and puddles of booze
Are the blood and guts of the stars
Who's final battlefield was this bar
So if you're wonderin' why I act this way
Why I never got very far
I was born for a life at the bar
I was born for a life at the bar
Words & music by Jon Tonge
Copyright © 2004
Well I was born for a life at the bar
Where the sun don't even come out ‘til after noon
And your friends are always waitin'
In some romantic vision of youth
Like horses outside an old saloon
So if you're wonderin' why I act this way
Why I never got very far
I was born for a life at the bar
The neon lights have always been a friend of mine
Without them neon lights
It'd be so damn dark you'd think you were blind
I just could not manage, though you know I tried so hard
I never could escape from this bar
So if you're wonderin' why I act this way
Why I never got very far
I was born for a life at the bar
Well these barstools sit just like church pews on Sunday to me
At the alter of a God I no longer see
And this tip jar is just an offering plate
To a man with a southern drawl
Who oversees the ceremonies at the bar
So if you're wonderin' why I act this way
Why I never got very far
I was born for a life at the bar
Well these chairs look like gravestones out in the yard
Oh the final resting place for the lonely and tired
This broken glass and puddles of booze
Are the blood and guts of the stars
Who's final battlefield was this bar
So if you're wonderin' why I act this way
Why I never got very far
I was born for a life at the bar
I was born for a life at the bar
Life at the Bar
Released 2004 - 13th Floor Music
Produced by The Bearfoot Hookers
Recorded & Mixed by Marcus Thompson at Chase Park Transduction, Athens, GA
Mastered by Jeff Capurso
Copyright © 2004 BFH
Released 2004 - 13th Floor Music
Produced by The Bearfoot Hookers
Recorded & Mixed by Marcus Thompson at Chase Park Transduction, Athens, GA
Mastered by Jeff Capurso
Copyright © 2004 BFH