It was just one last chord that struck,
And I was just the last guest in line.
And it was only ten o’clock,
But it was just me.
And I don’t think they really understood
Why I kept on about the scratchy horn
Playing over the speakers
And why it got to my head
And then I had already ordered
And it was time to go, I held my food,
And I couldn’t open the door
And a kind soul assisted me
And there I was, back on the street,
And I had no idea where to go.
And I did have a place to go,
But that defeats the purpose, now.