I walked into Joe’s at half past five,
The neon buzzin’ and barely alive.
The jukebox played my entrance tune –
But little did I know I'd leave past moon.


I tipped my hat, I found my chair,
My mouth was dry, my soul laid bare.
I raised one hand to place my plea –
“One cold beer, bartender, just for me.”


Two and a half hours to heaven,
I saw my life flash at quarter to seven.
The taps were full, the bar was slow –
But my thirst was loud, and my patience low.
I’ve faced heartbreak, snakes, and tax men mean…
But this here beer was the hardest I’ve seen.


At thirty minutes, I said a prayer,
At forty-five, I cried despair.
An hour in, I made a will,
At ninety minutes, I sat so still.


I watched two lovers meet and fight,
An old man leave and see the light.
A jukebox die, a birthday song…
But still that beer just took too long.



Two and a half hours to glory,
Someday they’ll write this down as story.
Of a man who waited, proud and dry –
For one cold beer ‘fore he could die.

So raise your glass if you made it through…
I drank that beer… and ordered two.