Where the Lights Hang Low

There’s a place I go
Where the lights hang low
The walls are stale from a thousand Marlborough lights
And the carpet tells a tale of a thousand Friday nights
There’s a man outside
Big black holes for eyes
Biting down on burnt out cigars
Plays forgotten songs on broken guitars
There’s a place I go
Where the lights hang low
There’s a place I’ve found
On the edge of town
Where all the girls dress in angelic white
But age is so unkind under florescent lights
And there’s a man by the door
Neatly stitched to the floor
He’s sat there for a thousand years
And he’ll sit there for a thousand more
There’s a place I go
Where the lights hang low
Oh there’s a place I go
Where the lights hang low