| I opened a bar for all my friends
|
| Who have no work and for the ones
|
| Who do have work to safely vomit
|
| What they’ve earned into the hall
|
| Underneath a disco ball
|
| I opened a bar for arctic plates
|
| Where they can melt on microwaves
|
| And I opened a bar for veterans
|
| To chat about dismemberments
|
| They smash some faces when they’re bored
|
| And raise their glass to presidents
|
| Fall asleep before their old
|
| Today, today, hurrah, hurrah
|
| I opened the bar
|
| I opened a bar for my boyfriend
|
| The one who always held my hand
|
| In public places when we drank
|
| For him to wonderfully spend the night
|
| With his new lover
|
| The whispering lyrics of romance
|
| That they can’t write or understand
|
| | |
| will start a clever hashtag trend
|
| Oh we mostly grow by dying
|
| Today, today, hurrah, hurrah
|
| I opened the bar
|
| I opened a bar for myself
|
| A purely self-loving event
|
| In case I suddenly fall ill
|
| And chemo will not take effect
|
| Instead of spending weeks in bed
|
| Attached to intravenous drips
|
| And I have never taken drugs
|
| So why start now when there is my pub
|
| Where I can climb the neon ads
|
| From the street up to the top
|
| An independent European
|
| Who has never needed someone
|
| To blow the whole thing up
|
| Hurrah hurrah, today, today
|
| I opened the bar
|
| A bar, a bar, a bar, a bar
|
| Today, today, hurrah, hurrah
|
| I opened the bar, the bar
|
| I opened the bar for my mother
|
| To explore when she discovers
|
| That I passed and she may long for
|
| A place to find the clues |