The taverns open again
The line-up who light up will surely decide the fate
Of these incorrigibles
Who plaster their messages up on the interstate

When she turns fifty
I might be dead

But acting happy again
Go singing his songs about rush-hour traffic jams
When the vodka kicks in
A night at the rockies
Digging in for the slam

When she turn fifty
Ill bake the bread
Ill bake the bread.