Their Song

In a smoky bar room,
On the south side of the city,
A man sits alone, whisky glass in his hand,
Staring at the ceiling.
He's been sitting here for hours,
Just trying to ease his pain.
It's gonna be a long time.
'till he's back on his feet again.

He waltzes alone,
To the sound of the music on the jukebox,
A tear in his eye,
He recognizes the song,
Memories start to haunt him.
Lost lovers and long lost brothers,
Drowning in a whisky sea.
It's  gonna be a long time,
Until his memories set him free.

Every song that was playing,
Was their song.
Yeah, it used to be our song too.
Every song that was playing,
Was their song,