There’s a ball game playing in the corner of the room
No one’s paying much attention in this old town saloon
It’s a comfort tot he lonely, a diversion for the prey
And a topic of discussion for people passing on their way
The dull roar of voices bounce off the back wall
Pierced by laughter, the nightingale’s call
As the dance of the lonely pass slowly through the room
Knowing that last call will come all too soon
Ch:
It’s a small town image with no where to go
And empty glass of wine at the start of a show
It’s the life that you find, when love has gone dry
And you pack your guitar and tell your best friend goodbye
Young girls in short skirts, young men in long shirts
Some come to score, some come just to flirt
Most come here alone, and they’ll go home the same
I’ll take a table for two and toast the sound of your name.
Ch:
On to the stage steps a man with guitar
Singing his praise to the guy at the bar
With songs he’ll paint pictures of love gone a wry
And hope that tonight he’ll make a pretty girl cry
There’s a song for the guy who wants a girl from his past
One for the girl, who finds men move to fast
And a song for the couple at each end of the bar
Who found love for a while in the back of a car
It’s a small town image with nowhere to go
An empty glass of wine at the end of a show
It’s the life that you find, when love has gone dry
And you pack your guitar, and tell your best friend goodbye.
¢ 1996 Steve Hohstadt
The life of the musician, without the illusion of glamor and fame. You pack your guitar, leave your best friend to take care of the home front, and travel from town to town hoping to touch somebody, and add to their evening.
