I lost my money to some dirty old bookie
Way up in Philly, he was a bad man
But you can´t bet your life on the table
When you´ve got yourself a bad hand
So I went and got my good friend Mickey

And we made ourselves a bold stand
Wound up bleedin´ on the bar floor
And we don´t bet on ball no more

Where the bets are tough and bartenders mean
The great American bar scene

My brother from Tulsa has got himself a warrant
But he´s on the run up in Cheyenne
They hemmed me up and asked me some questions
But I ain´t no damn rat man
Put cuffs on so tight he started bleedin´
From his wrist down through to his right hand

Put "State Trooper" on the record machine
The great American bar scene

Neon lightin´, wooden floors lightly

As her feet quietly slide across
Tough boys have all came and went
She´s a-heaven-sent and I´m at a loss
So if you´ve got the time, I´ve got the quarter
And a two-steppin´ song called "Hey Porter"

Why´s love always feel like a fever dream
In the great American bar scene?

My heart stays hurtin´ and hands stay workin´
And I´m still just a sinnin´ man
I´ve tried like hell to keep my health
Treat others well and understand

Why life´s unfair, uncertain and mean
In the great American bar scene