A corner dive down on the square Where the windows hang with a neon flare Regulars shoot horse and pool While the barmaid wishes the place half full She works the jar with a discount flirt With a faded Houston Oilers shirt While an old crow sings down on the stage Thumbing the chords on a crinkled page He plays his Zevon tune Beneath the gulf moon Take a walk down along the wall You'll go right on past the carnival Hand in hand with the keeper kind The kind that ties to the ties that bind They don't care for the carnie man Or the fortune teller that reads your hand They just beeline for a bungalow Where the curtains flutter And candles glow in the heart of June Beneath the gulf moon Here I'm on a midnight porch Looking up at a butane torch That hangs behind a black expanse Where the stars flicker and planets dance It is probably time I pack it in With a glass half-full of Jameson Well I was born to croon I might as well Beneath the gulf moon Down by the jetty near the Balinese Pier The curmudgeons drink the yellow belly beer And they bitch about the price of gas And the fish that they can't seem to catch They blame it on the islands way down south From the bayou marsh and the delta mouth Where the choppers are rollin and tankers come In the midnight daze for the oil drum They can't leave too soon Beneath the gulf moon