Gulf Moon

A corner dive down on the s****e
Where the windows hang with a neon flare
Regulars shoot horse and pool
While the barmaid wishes the place half full
She works the jar with a discount flirt
A faded Houston Oilers shirt
While an old crow sings down on the stage
Thumbin the chords on a crinkled page
He plays his Zevon tune
Beneath the gulf moon

Take a walk down along the wall
Youll go right on past the carnival
Hand in hand with the keeper kind
The kind that ties to the ties that bind
Dont care for the carnie man
Or the fortune teller that reads your hand
They just beeline for a bungalow
Where the curtains flutter and candles glow
In the heart of June
Beneath the gulf moon

And here Im on a midnight porch
Lookin up at a butane torch
That hangs behind a black expanse
Where stars flicker and planets dance
And its probably time I pack it in
With a glass half-full of Jameson
Well, I was born to croon
I might as well, neath the gulf moon

Down by the jetty, near the Balinese Pier
The curmudgeons drink the yellow belly beer
And they ***** about the price of gas
And the fish that they cant seem to catch
They blame it on the islands way down south
From the bayou marsh and the delta mouth
Where choppers roll, and the tankers come
In a midnight daze for the oil drum
They cant leave too soon
Neath the gulf moon