In the night, after drinks, things get pretty wild
A deck of cards, a shot of whiskey, a few friends
The cards appear, disappear, and reappear again
But the real tricks are happening in the back room

In the smoky bar, nothing is as it seems
Men are women, women are men
And the simple, polite girl next door?
She's the trick from Third and Main

On the other side of the bar, a magician does his tricks
And the tricks from the truck stop do theirs
The cards are shuffled and put away
But the tricks continue

A few drinks alter a perspective
The whiskey soaks into the blood and straight to the brain
Here among the clinking glasses and beer bottles fizzing
There's a dim light in the smoky bar and a dimmer light in men's eyes

The hope is gone, replaced by drunken despair
The bartender cries out that dreaded phrase, "Closing time,
"You don't have to go home but you can't stay here."

The bar closes and the tricks move on
The magician packs up his cards and heads to his cold hotel room
Barkeep, another round of Bud Lights for my friends
Drinks on me, because, after drinks, the real show starts

Sketch 2002