When you wake up in the morning with the sunshine in your window
And the sleep in your eyes
I´ll still sitting here at the end of the bar
A place where the sun never shines
Just sittin´ here with my drinks and my smokes
Trying not to think about you
Trying not to think about those good times we had
Trying not to believe that they´re all true
It´s not the end of the road that I´ve taken
It´s not the end of the line
Jusr the end of the bar hereat Rita´s Grill
A place where the sun never shines
Now if there´s any of my clothes still left out at the house
You can send them to the Park Hotel
It´s room number 17, down at the end of the hall
And if I´m not there, you can usually find me here
The snow starts to melt in the road of your house
Ice starts to thaw in your heart
You could give me a call here at Rita´s Grill
