Saturday Nights At Barney's
Saturday nights at Barney’s
Rowdy Cowboy Honky-Tonk,
Our band sang soulful love songs
That cried while our guitars wailed.
We oozed moods for fresh lovers,
And throbbing hearts on the mend,
Through those timeless tuneful nights
While Gus wiped his rosewood bar.
After crowds slunk off with night
We sang our most heart-felt songs
To the posters on the walls.
We sang for the fallen stars
Who had blazed through there before.
We lullabied a bleached blonde
Whose shining eyes seemed frozen
On bald Gus behind the bar.
On Tuesday nights at Barney’s
Four young Texas country boys
Poured out heartfelt harmonies
For cups in the coffee shop.
Eighteen wheelers chugged by
As hopeful neon winked at stars,
Coaxing folks to Barney’s door
And dour Gus behind the bar.
When the night was on the wane
We sang for the fallen stars
On the posters on the walls,
Who had blazed through there before.
Our final song we played best:
For a tiny nightingale,
A Texas blonde in buckskins
And auld Gus behind the bar.
Now twenty years from Barney’s
Still singing songs for lovers;
At times mending aching hearts
‘Midst stale smells of smoke and beer,
Our drums beat as hurting hearts
While we croon to forlorn chairs
And remember Barney’s where
Gus wiped glasses at the bar.
We sing our final love song
For a Texas blonde who’d sung
To gray Gus behind the bar.
We sing to little Linda,
The faded belle of Barney’s
Whose faint and wrinkled poster
Was found hung loose on the wall,
Beside Gus behind the bar.
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