There's a place called Joe's

Where some of us go

When the hard working day is through

Through the neon and smoke

We laugh and tell jokes

And throw down a cold one or two

There's a jukebox that's full of records

By Willie Haggard and Jones

There's a picture of Elvis and ol' John Wayne

Hanging side by side on the wall

Down at Joe's place it's still the old way

Pickled eggs in a jar and a blue ribbon sign

Ol' boys and bankers sitting side by side

Down at Joe's place down at Joe's place

Along about midnight a few hangers on

Are still hanging out at the bar

If the telephone rings

It's an understood thing

Joe don't know where they are

At a table in the corner

There's a young man and an empty chair

His head in his hands tears in his eyes

And a girlfriend's ring lying there

Down at Joe's place it's still the old way

Pickled eggs in a jar and a blue ribbon sign

Ol' boys and bankers sitting side by side

Down at Joe's place down at Joe's place

Pickled eggs in a jar and a blue ribbon sign

Ol' boys and bankers sitting side by side

Down at Joe's place down at Joe's place

Joe's place let's go to Joe's place