The tavern’s open again
The line-up who light up will surely decide the fate
Of these incorrigibles
Who plaster their messages up on the interstate
When she turns fifty
I might be dead
But acting happy again
Go singing his songs about rush-hour traffic jams
When the vodka kicks in
A night at the Rockies
Digging in for the slam
When she turn fifty
I’ll bake the bread
I’ll bake the bread.