Letra de A Man Walks Into A Bar
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A man walks into a bar, he says, Give me a Bacardi and Coke!
The Back o' Beyond Repair welcomes the broken and the broke
Blather hitches a ride on the back of second-hand smoke and the man, well, he'll be the punchline in someone else's joke
The Back o' Beyond Repair welcomes the broken and the broke
Blather hitches a ride on the back of second-hand smoke and the man, well, he'll be the punchline in someone else's joke
I'll beat this drink! It's a habit I'll kick. Please help me now, I'm gonna be sick. Something hit me; I wound up on the floor. Damn this Bacardi! I don't want any more.
A man walks into a think-tank full of hooch and future sales, mixing wish lists with extention plans re: Guantanamo jail
Smell the solid beech, and a whiff of 'cannot fail' and a gilt-tray chock with goblets dripping cut-throat cocktails
And they drink a toast to Florida and all its air-conditioned hum, and they damn the health of Cuba and they damn its bona fide rum
He sucks a kalamata olive, spits out the stone, and he mimics crushing people between forefinger and thumb
I'll beat this drink! It's a habit I'll kick. Please help me now, I'm gonna be sick. Something hit me; I wound up on the floor. Damn this Bacardi! I don't want any more.
The first man wakes up in the same bar, but it's different, as in a dream
In fact it's someone else's dream
Clean sheets and new regime
Fidel burns as Nero roams
Give the bar a zip code!
See you...
Si... C.U.
And it's one more for the road
I'll beat this drink! It's a habit I'll kick. Please help me now, I'm gonna be sick. Something hit me; I wound up on the floor. Damn this Bacardi! I don't want any more
(Thanks to hrsa for these lyrics)
A man walks into a think-tank full of hooch and future sales, mixing wish lists with extention plans re: Guantanamo jail
Smell the solid beech, and a whiff of 'cannot fail' and a gilt-tray chock with goblets dripping cut-throat cocktails
And they drink a toast to Florida and all its air-conditioned hum, and they damn the health of Cuba and they damn its bona fide rum
He sucks a kalamata olive, spits out the stone, and he mimics crushing people between forefinger and thumb
I'll beat this drink! It's a habit I'll kick. Please help me now, I'm gonna be sick. Something hit me; I wound up on the floor. Damn this Bacardi! I don't want any more.
The first man wakes up in the same bar, but it's different, as in a dream
In fact it's someone else's dream
Clean sheets and new regime
Fidel burns as Nero roams
Give the bar a zip code!
See you...
Si... C.U.
And it's one more for the road
I'll beat this drink! It's a habit I'll kick. Please help me now, I'm gonna be sick. Something hit me; I wound up on the floor. Damn this Bacardi! I don't want any more
(Thanks to hrsa for these lyrics)
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