Another Brass Rail

I don't know why I think I'll recognize
A friendly face in the smoky air
Among the scum pushing dope on the suits doing coke
And the hippies who think they're Voltaire

It's a piss poor crew without a thing to do
And I don't care because they want me to
I'd let it all go, but it's my goddamn show
And when I'm loaded it's hard not to care

I wonder how many times my fists kissed the glass
Around sixteen ounces of stout
It's love, makes me hate
It's a jealous man's fate
But this flame I think has burned itself out
See, I'm sick of her lies and trying to keep it inside
Back up boys, if you're on their side
You'll be lying on your ass in a pool of broken glass
Before the bell at the end of the bout

Maybe it's the Whiskey that hit me
Maybe it's the boot to the chin
Another brass rail
Another empty pint glass
And another empty bottle of gin
Maybe it's the Whiskey that hit me
Maybe it's the kick to the head
When his face hit the ground
They bought another round
And left him in the gutter for dead

See, I'm not a drunk; I'm a worker
And you're not alive, you're a creep
My days and my time are my nose to the grind
But your nose only keeps you from sleep
I've two years of strife and the rest of my life
I've sharpened my wits and they cut like a knife
Throw my flight to the floor, drag your ass out the door
And "steelcaps" are the word of the week

Maybe it's the Whiskey that hit me
Maybe it's the boot to the chin
Another brass rail
Another empty pint glass
And another empty bottle of gin
Maybe it's the Whiskey that hit me
Maybe it's the kick to the head
When his face hit the ground
They bought another round
And left him in the gutter for dead

Maybe it's the Whiskey that hit me
Maybe it's the boot to the chin
Another brass rail
Another empty pint glass
And another empty bottle of gin
Maybe it's the Whiskey that hit me
Maybe it's the kick to the head
When his face hit the ground
They bought another round
And left him in the gutter for dead