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There's a (E) place called Joe's, where (A) some of us (E) go When the hard workin' (B) day is (E) through Through the (A) neon smoke, we (E) laugh and tell jokes Throw down a cold one or (B) two There's a (A) jukebox that's full of (E) records By (A) Willie, (B) Haggard, and (E) Jones There's a (A) picture of (B) Elvis, and (C#m) ol' John (A) Wayne Hangin' side by (B) side on the (E) wall Down at (A) Joe's place It's still the (E) old way Pickled (A) eggs in a jar And a (B) Blue Ribbon sign (A) Old boys and bankers sittin' (B) side by side Down at (E) Joe's place Down at Joe's place A(E)long about midnight, a (A) few hangers (E) on Are still hanging (B) out at the (E) bar Yeah, the (A) telephone rings, it's an (E) understood thing Joe don't know where they (B) are At a (A) table in the (E) corner There's a (A) young man and an (B) empty (E) chair His (A) head in his (B) hands, (E) tears in his (A) eyes And his girfriend's (B) ring lying (E) there Down at (A) Joe's place It's still the (E) old way Pickled (A) eggs in a jar And a (B) Blue Ribbon sign (A) Old boys and bankers sittin' (B) side by side Down at (E) Joe's place Down at Joe's place Pickled (A) eggs in a jar And a (B) Blue Ribbon sign (A) Old boys and bankers sittin' (B) side by side Down at (E) Joe's place Down at Joe's place Joe's place Let's go to Joe's place
Written by Mike Dekle/Byron Hill
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