The Last Boys: Loretta's / Brothers / Crescent Room

Lyrics

Yeah...
That low light...

Down on Cheshire Bridge, after a long, long week.
Loretta's door made that same familiar creak.
She'd check your ID even if she'd known your name for twenty years.
Just a little smile to quiet all the fears.
The clean click of the eight ball in the corner pocket.
Someone put Patsy on the jukebox, dropped a token in the socket.
Another round in a dim-lit second home.
A place you never had to drink alone.

And in the quiet storm, under candlelight...
We were the last boys, and the first girls, holding on so tight.
No strobing colors, no pounding beat to chase.
Just the sound of your own name, in a quiet, saving grace.
Just us.

Over in Midtown, you'd find your way to Brothers.
Strongest gin and tonic you could get from any others.
And the bartender, he knew just what to pour.
He'd read the whole story 'fore you got through the door.
Out on that little back patio, the confessional booth was open.
Whispering the secrets that couldn't be spoken in the daylight.
Just a cigarette's glow and a shared, knowing glance.
Learning another slow, careful, life-saving dance.

And in the quiet storm, under candlelight...
We were the last boys, and the first girls, holding on so tight.
No strobing colors, no pounding beat to chase.
Just the sound of your own name, in a quiet, saving grace.
Just us.

Then the Crescent Room, darker still.
A place for the hopeful, standing by the sill.
A murmur, a nod, a language of the eyes.
Beneath the polite surface, where the real truth lies.
These rooms, these corners, these sticky wooden bars...
They held our histories. They healed our scars.

Loretta's closed in twenty-eleven.
Just a memory on the curb now.
A quiet, saving grace.
Gone now.
Just us.