There`s a place called Joe`s Where some of us go When the hard working day is through Through the neon and smoke We laugh and tell jokes And throw down a cold one or two There`s a jukebox that`s full of records By Willie, Haggard and Jones There`s a picture of Elvis and ol` John Wayne Hanging side by side on the wall
Down at Joe`s place It`s still the old way Pickled eggs in a jar And a blue ribbon sign Ol` boys and bankers Sitting side by side Down at Joe`s place Down at Joe`s place
Along about midnight A few hangers on Are still hanging out at the bar If the telphone rings It`s an understood thing Joe don`t know where they are At a table in the corner There`s a young man and an empty chair His head in his hands. tears in his eyes And a girlfriend`s ring lying there
Down at Joe`s place It`s still the old way Pickled eggs in a jar And a blue ribbon sign Ol` boys and bankers Sitting side by side Down at Joe`s place Down at Joe`s place
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