Lyrics
The streetlights bleedin' gold and gray, they spill across the floor,
Another Monday evening finds me knockin' on the same old door.
I slide into this booth, the leather's cracked and worn, you see,
A ghost of better nights, when this old dive was home to me.
The waitress knows my order, just a double, straight and neat,
'Cause the company I came for, darlin', just ain't on this street.
Yeah, the music's good, the horns are hot, but there's a vacant spot,
Where all the crazy talk and laughs we shared still haven't been forgot.Oh, the Loneliest Booth in Town, that's what I call this place,
A perfect little haunt where a fella can't quite save his grace.
I'd trade this smoky, velvet haze for just one foolish, midnight call,
To see those faces round the table, watchin' the whole world fall.
So raise a glass of nothin' to the friends who drifted far,
Wishin' on every lonely streetlight that they knew just where you are.
I just wanna see ya, one more time, before the final curtain call,
'Cause this jazz ain't quite the same without my favorite pals of all.
