Sit back
Have a beer
Forget your troubles
Come over here
The pub at the edge
Of town, this town
Take a shot
Slug your lager down
Girls tap their feet
A high old time
Feet move faster
Dance floor prime
Foam sloshes over
Glasses spill
Can you say...
Hangover thrill?
The band plays
Loud, loud, louder
Little man on a fiddle
Short, but stouter
For a bluesy harmonica
The lights begin to dim
And the din quiets
Chance of sound, slim
And the harmonica lilts
And the notes singe their hearts
Raw emotion pours
And strikes them like darts
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