I walk into a bar for some time to think
And the bar man asks me what I'd like to drink
And as I sit down he sits opposite me
A man with a story, a tale to heed
I take sip as he starts his story
Warts and all in its entire glory
All the times he'd been stabbed in the back
And all the bastards who tried to make him crack
So bitter and twisted
So bruised and blistered
He Cries "Does no one care for the good that I've done?"
"Will no one care when I'm dead and I'm gone?"
I sit uncomfortably as he tells me more
Listening carefully as I stare at the floor
He trusted fools and believed in their lies
And those he'd loved who'd bled him dry
He used to be the life and soul
But the lies have taken their toll
No more laughs and no more smiles
Just cynical and bitter and full of bile
So bitter and twisted
So bruised and blistered
He Cries "Does no one care for the good I've that done?"
"Will no one care when I'm dead and I'm gone?"
I call for a drink and I light up a smoke
And shift my seat and begin to choke
For this man's tale of woe and error
Comes from the man looking at me in the mirror