It's quarter to three, there's no one in the place except you and me So, set 'em up, Joe, I got a little story you oughta know We're drinkin', my friend, to the end of a brief episode Make it one for my baby and one more for the road I got the routine, so drop another nickel in the machine I'm feelin' so bad, wish you'd make the music pretty and sad Could tell you a lot, but you've got to be true to your code So, make it one for my baby and one more for the road You'd never know it but buddy, I'm a kind of poet And I got a lot of things to say And when I'm gloomy, you simply gotta listen to me Till it's all talked away Well that's how it goes and Joe, I know your gettin' pretty anxious to close So, thanks for the cheer, I hope you didn't mind my bendin' your ear This torch that I found must be drowned or it soon might explode So, make it one for my baby and one more for the road That long, long road

See him wasted on the sidewalk in His jacket and his jeans Wearing yesterday's misfortunes Like a smile Once he had a future full of Money, love and dreams Which he spent like they Was going out of style And he keeps right on a changing For the better or the worse And searching for a shrine He's never found Never knowing if believing Is a blessing or a curse Or if the going up is worth to coming down He's a poet he's a picker He's a prophet he's a pusher He's a pilgrim and a preacher And a problem when he's stoned He's a walking contradiction partly Truth and partly fiction Taking every wrong direction on his Lonely way back home He has tasted good and evil In your bedrooms and your bars And he's traded in tomorrow for today Running from his devils Lord And reaching for the stars And losing all he loved along the way But if this world keeps right On turning for the better or the worse And all he ever gets is older and around From the rocking of the Cradle to the rolling of the hearse The going up was worth the coming down He's a poet he's a picker He's a prophet He's a pusher He's a poet he's a picker He's a prophet he's a pusher He's a pilgrim and a preacher And a problem when he's stoned He's a walking contradiction partly Truth and partly fiction Taking every wrong direction on his Lonely way back home

One For My Baby It's quarter to three, There's no one in the place Except you and me So set 'em' up Joe, I got a little story I think you should know We're drinking my friend, To the end of a brief episode Make it one for my baby And one more for the road I got the routine, put another nickel In the machine Feeling so bad, won't you make the music Easy and sad I could tell you a lot, but it's not In a gentleman's code Just make it one for my baby And one more for the road You'd never know it, But buddy I'm a kind of poet And I've got a lot of things I'd like to say And when I'm gloomy, won't ya listen to me Till it's talked away Well, that's how it goes, And Joe I know your gettin' Anxious to close Thanks for the cheer I hope you didn't mind My bending your ear But this torch that I found, It's gotta be drowned Or it's soon might explode Make it one for my baby And one more for the road Long, it's so long, winding road