I like to go to my favorite bar at the City Café
Like to watch a game, eat hot wings, have a beer
I’m as contented as a tick on a hound
Then invariably it happens
Have no fear

A gal sits down beside me
Got a shiner the size of a moon pie
Starts weeping and telling me her life story
Oh, give me a break
All I wanted was a beer

Say her boyfriend is 6’6”, 350lbs.
If he comes in, I should run, run, run
I attract these gals like flies to honey
Is it cause I sit at the end of the bar
Ord do I have a sign on me
A sign that says “sucker for a sob story”?

I could stay home but I love this bar
Big Screen TV is a draw and hot wings to die for
Gonna tell them gals
No more sob stories
No more, no more
That’s what bar tenders are for