Country Song

Sitting alone at the bar, remembering when I was fine
I used to be a beauty then, before the claws of time
Sitting with my pal Jim Beam, the memories they linger
Unlike money, cars and men, that slip right through my fingers

Looking back to when my chest was neat and tight and perky
When my skin was more like silk and less like frozen turkey
Looking back to when I had the perfect little ass
Back when I was seventeen, half a century past

Sitting alone at the bar, while the juke box plays old tunes
Songs they sung when I was young, not a wrinkled prune
Sitting with an empty glass, staring at the wall
Remembering when I was young and John Boy he was tall

Looking back to when my chest was neat and tight and perky
When my skin was more like silk and less like frozen turkey
Looking back to when I had the perfect little ass
Back when I was seventeen, half a century past

Sitting alone at the bar with no one to stand me a beer
Where the hell did I go wrong to wind up sitting here
Sitting alone at the bar too drink to get up and go home
Even the dog has buggered off and left me all alone

Looking back to when my life was all in front of me
Back to when I knew I could be what I dreamed I’d be
Looking back to when I had the world beneath my feet
Back when I was seventeen, and life was truly sweet

©jj 2019