In a typical scene on a typical night in a big-town college bar
A few things are included, and I can tell you what they are…
There are reckless girls with careful curls and pre-doctors in heat
And a hunger in the atmosphere that’s gotta have something to eat.
There are veterans of the bar scene with a year under their belt
Who can finish an average well drink before the ice begins to melt
They can slam the 48 proof shots the tenders have been servin’
But will they ever learn to love the bite of undiluted bourbon?
Now some pass through these Golden Gates with their brother’s lost ID
When the bouncer asks they always say “yes of course that’s me.”
And though the written law and their ma and pa know they’re under age
No one can deny these guys their hot hormonal rage
They spend their folk’s vacation funds on a hill of pre-washed jeans
They know it’s time for them to find the boy/girl of their dreams
The moms and dads are feelin’ bad while at home they wait and wonder
But here tonight are flashing lights and a song that sounds like thunder
The bartenders are smiling as the new day just begins
And your vision blurs as Italy stirs and you beg to serve your sins
So they sell you all one last last call to soothe the wounds of a losing battle
Then they drive you out two minutes later like a herd of drunken cattle.
