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.