One man, one stool, one yellow lamp,
Foam in the glass, my thoughts go damp.
The room is loud, but I’m alone—
I hear a laugh that’s not my own.
I drink my beer like it’s a prayer,
And talk to air like someone’s there,
“You should’ve seen the things I’ve done,
The stupid wars I thought I won.”
I tell you jokes, I tell you grief,
I build a world on make-belief,
You nod in smoke, you sip my line—
Then I switch beer for bitter wine.
Your eyes are light, your voice is thin,
A candle trying not to dim.
I blink too hard—your face turns slow,
Like chalk on glass, about to go.
I talk, I laugh, I almost cry,
To a ghost I made to sit nearby.
Truth tastes sharp when wine runs out—
I know it’s fake, I know no doubt.
But for one night, in neon glow,
I let the lonely story grow.
I tell you “family,” I tell you “home,”
The roads I took, the debts I owe,
The sweetest day, the dumbest fall,
The songs that saved me from it all.
Then silence cuts—my mouth goes dry,
I see the lie behind my eye:
No chair moved, no shadow stirred,
Just me… and every borrowed word.
Your smile dissolves in barroom steam,
A thin goodbye, a thinning dream.
I catch it—like a falling thread—
And watch it vanish in my head.
I talk, I laugh, I almost cry,
To a ghost I made to sit nearby.
Truth comes back when music ends—
No hand to hold, no “we,” no friends.
Still I stand, and still I pay,
And let the phantom drift away.
Violin shakes like tired hands,
Guitar like boots on broken lands.
I whisper, “Thanks for staying here,”
Even if you disappeared.
I smile… I pay… I breathe it in,
The bartender just grins and grins.
My coat, my steps, the night outside—
No one with me, no one to hide.
I pull the door… it breathes once more—
And then it shuts.
That’s all.
No more.
#BarroomSong #DrunkenFablesMusic #LonelySong #NightBallad #TavernBallad #PhantomLove #MoodySong #StorySong #ViolinBallad #HauntingSong
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