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French fried shoe strings on a drunken cellar door. |
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If these walls could talk, |
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I'd listen to the floor. |
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The bar stools proppin' up a twenty dollar whore, recantin' recitations from a lonesome tale of yore for a while... |
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At the Starlight |
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Lounge... |
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At the Starlight |
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Lounge... |
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I see a place where something's happened every day for twenty years, and the people think it's special 'cause they drown in their beers. |
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The special on the menu is the balls of a steer. |
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This is only one place to escape from your fears for a while... |
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At the Starlight |
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Lounge... |
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The Starlight |
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Lounge... |
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Yeah, the |
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Starlight |
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Lounge is a happy little place. |
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A really fun place where you can lose your face. |
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And all of my friends including me are insane. |
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It's a little hide-a-way to hide away from the pain. yeah! |
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And if my friends, were by my side. |
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They still couldn't see, couldn't see inside. |
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The bartender just lets my tab slide. |
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Who's takin' who here for a ride for a while... |
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At the Starlight |
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Lounge... |
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The Starlight |
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Lounge... |
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At the Starlight |
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Lounge... |
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The Starlight |
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Lounge... |
