copyright 2002
a small chicken music

THE FINAL CALL
(AN ODE TO THE POMP ROOM BAR)
(MARK)

SHE WAS MORE THAN JUST A FRIEND TO ME,
A BLESSING AT SOME TIMES.
SHE KEPT ME ABOVE WATER,
IN LESS THAN FRIENDLY TIMES.

SHE WAS NOT YOUNG OR BEAUTIFUL,
HER MERIT NOT OF THE EYES,
SHE STOOD JUST LIKE A PILLAR, IN ENDLESS COMPROMISE.

SHE GREETS ME LIKE SOME FAMILY REUNION EVERY NIGHT.
EMBRACES ME LIKE A LONG-LOST CHILD,
A SIGHT FOR SORE EYES.

AND THOUGH I LEFT HER LONG AGO,
SHE GREETS ME WITH A SMILE,
INVITES ME IN TO PLEASE,
STAY AWHILE.

AND THEN ONE DAY SHE JUST CLOSED THE DOOR
AND GHOSTS ALL LOOKED AROUND.
AND SAID, "I DON'T THINK I HEARD THE FINAL CALL."
AND THE MEMORIES ALL SHOOK THEIR HEAD
AND CRIED, "WHERE WILL WE GO?"
AS THEY SAT AND WATCHED THE FINAL CURTAIN FALL.

IT WAS THE FINAL CALL

I MET HER AT A PARTY
AS I JUST HUNG AROUND.
WE CLASHED BEFORE WE FOUND WE STOOD
UPON SOME COMMON GROUND.

GOD I KNOW I'LL MISS HER,
AS ONLY I COULD KNOW.
SHE WEPT, AND TURNED HER HEAD AWAY,
AS I TOLD HER SO.

(CHORUS)

I DID NOT WANT TO SEE HER GO,
BUT I DIDN'T HAVE A CHOICE.
AND AS I WATCHED HER DISAPPEAR,
I HEARD A FRIENDLY VOICE.

A GHOST WALKED UP BEHIND ME
AND BEGAN TO SING A SONG.
A CHORUS OF MEMORIES JOINED IN,
AND WE ALL SANG ALONG.

WE SANG GOODBYE.