And so we’ve had another night
Of poetry and proses
And each man know he’ll be alone
When the sacred ginmill closes
And so we’ll drink the final glass
Each to his joy and sorrow
And hope the numbing drunk will last
Till opening tomorrow
And when we stumble back again
Like paralytic dancers
Each knows the question he must ask
And each man knows the answer
And so we’ll drink the final drink
That cuts the brain in sections
Where answers do not signify
And there aren’t any questions
I broke my heart the other day
It will mend again tomorrow
If I'd been drunk when I was born
I'd be ignorant of sorrow
And so we'll drink the final toast
That never can be spoken
Here's to the heart that is wise enough
To know when it's better off broke