One, two, one, two, three, four
Well he checked a certain door
And he checked out the tidal sea
Back to somewhere in between
So he ordered himself one more beer
And it ordered his mind for a while
As he searched around the barroom floor
So he fills up his lungs with smoke
And he fills up his gallops with beer
This is a way for her, it's still happy hour
But it's second last call around here
Well, her memories came rushing back
So did he, couldn't even stand
But that was all right, he just said
It was the last show of the
He yelled at the singer again
And the singer did the part,
So he fills up his lungs with smoke
And he fills up his guns with
Cause somewhere far better
Of the second last call of that year
The barmaid was sweeping the floor,
she just swept the night too
As he laid there on the gutter,
and I knew what he would do
He'd go home, and write him a song,
it would be a number one hit
Cause he'd sing about his lost love,
and everyone could relate to it
So he fills up his lungs with smoke,
and he fills up his guts with beer
Cause the way I fought it hurt, still have it out,
but it's the second last bottle left
I'm a man, I'm not I'm not