279. Thoughts At The Pub...BirraPoretti's

Booming, Cheerful Voices
   Echoing Loudly Through The Pub;
Dim, Soft Light All Around,
   Accented By The Dancing Candle-light...

The long, mahogany Irish bar
   Where dreams are dreamt,
   And lifetimes spent;
   Where reality is pushed away,
   And hopes are no longer crushed...

The shaking hands that hold
   All the alcoholic sights--
   The over-worked businessman,
   The under-aged drunkard,
   The quiet, plain-eyed widow,
   And all of reality's
          Other patrons of life...

The beautiful, warm-voiced waitress;
   The one who smiles so beautifully
   Under long, dark strands
   And her brilliant, wondrous eyes.
   You feel like you've known her life-long,
   But her beauty still makes you nervous...

The music is much too loud,
   Yet, not loud enough;
   A couple is dancing by the bar,
   So close, so in love
   That you can see their dreams
          In their glimmering eyes...

The lonely people watching
   That couple in sheer joy,
   Their eyes cut with envy,
   Their smiles telling lies,
   Wishing reality was a dream
   That they could dream sober...

Everyone here knows your face;
   They've seen you a thousand times,
   But how many people know who you are?
   How many people know who you are?
   There are too few to mention,
   It's too trivial to matter...

And when your drink spills across the table
   And suns down on to the floor,
   You rest your head on the wood,
   Lying face down in the ale,
   Slowly passing out at the bar
   And ask yourself
   Why, what am I doing here?...

But, you know you're here for one reason;
   This is the only place
   Where you're at home,
   The only place here your dreams
   Are no longer dreams,
   But beautiful, wondrous reality
   Waiting only seconds out the door...