It’s a quarter t’ three,
There’s no one in the place except you an’ me.
So, set ’em up joe, I’ve got a little story that you otta kno.
We’re drinkin’ my friend, t’ the end of a brief episode,
Make it one for ma baby an’ one more for the road . . .
I got the routine, so drop another nickel in the machine,
I’m feelin’ so bad, I wish you’d make the music dreamy an’ sad,
Could tell you a lot, but you’ve got to be true to your ’code’
Make it one for ma baby, one more for the road . . .
You’d never kno’ it, but buddy, I’m kind of a poet,
And I’ve got a lot of things to say.
And when I’m gloomy, you simply gotta listen to me,
Until it’s talked away . . .
Well, that’s how it goes, and joe I kno’ you’re gettin’ anxious t’ close,
So thanks for the cheer, I hope you didn’t mind my bendin’ your ear . . .
This torch that I’ve found, must be drowned or it soon will explode,
Make it one for ma baby, an’ one more for the road . . .
That long, long road!