The tavern where you worked 

was cold and dark as a cavern

You kept quarters in your shirt but I never could just have them

You always made me sweep 

around every fly and floozie

Under booths and bums asleep

waking up they’d ask you “who’s he?”

Behind a glass without a glance

“my daughter’s boy,” you would say

While I stood there in a trance 

listening to the jukebox play

Appears On

Played Live On

Chicago, IL - The Vic Theatre

Jeff Tweedy Annual Benefit for Education