Theres a place called joes
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
Theres a jukebox thats full of records
By willie, haggard and jones
Theres a picture of elvis and ol john wayne
Hanging side by side on the wall

Down at joes place
Its still the old way
Pickled eggs in a jar
And a blue ribbon sign
Ol boys and bankers
Sitting side by side
Down at joes place
Down at joes place

Along about midnight
A few hangers on
Are still hanging out at the bar
If the telphone rings
Its an understood thing
Joe dont know where they are
At a table in the corner
Theres a young man and an empty chair
His head in his hands. tears in his eyes
And a girlfriends ring lying there

Down at joes place
Its still the old way
Pickled eggs in a jar
And a blue ribbon sign
Ol boys and bankers
Sitting side by side
Down at joes place
Down at joes place