Put down the bullets and the bandelier,
Swing from the champagne chandelier,
Wet the whistle and play a little number we know,
High noons, make the best happy hour,
The dogs hair taste like a whiskey sour,
Jack and jim just might go toe to toe,
[Chorus:]
A bar stool-a drunkards throne,
Sits in the corner, all alone,
Waiting for new stories to come home
So come home
The new sheriff in town likes to twist & shout,
The band playing is knocking all the windows out,
The towns people seem to sway like dominoes,
The gamblers only got one thing in mind,
When to hold,when to fold with a twist of lime,
Father John had to dance away his sole
[Chorus]
[Repeat 1st Verse]