The Oldest Bar in Town


Wouldn't recognise your voice
No more in the night
Wouldn't know your face
But for photographs

Wouldn't pick your writing out
On a card in the mail
Wouldn't know whether you'd
Sunk or sailed away

Playing blues on the deck in the sun
Drinking beers in the oldest bar in town
You will always be on the run
Hoping someone's gonna track you down

What I know is flowers in the night
What I know is you gave me times to photograph
You gave me writing on the wall
You gave me reason to sail away