I've been looking through the dictionary
For a word that's always running through my mind.
Though I love the name of Mother, I was looking for another,
And I must confess that word I cannot find.
Can it be that all its glories are forgotten,
And it's buried with the language of the Greek?
If it is 'twill ever linger in my mem'ry
As the first word that I heard my daddy speak.
Saloon, Saloon, Saloon.
It runs through my brain like a tune.
I don't like cafe, And I hate cabaret,
But just mention saloon and my cares fade away.
For it brings back a fond recollection
Of a little old low ceiling room.
With a bar, and a rail, and a dime, and a pail.
Saloon, saloon, saloon.
I can picture swinging doors wide open.
I can almost see the sawdust on the floor.
And I dream of pals and cronies drinking highballs, steins and ponies,
I can see the name of "Ehret" on the door.
But the free lunch counter now is but a mem'ry,
It has vanished with the joys we used to know.
Never more we'll hear that old familiar parting:
Just one drink, boys, just one more, before we go.
Saloon, Saloon, Saloon.
Have you been forgotten so soon?
You nestled so sweet in that little side street,
So respected, protected by cops on the beat.
Since you've left us the world seems in darkness,
Like a cloud passing over the moon.
No more joys in my life, no more lies to my wife.
Saloon, saloon, saloon.