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A recorded reading of “The Last Bar Open in Heaven”. If the player does not load, use the original audio source.
Gabriel polishes a highball glass— “Storms,” he says, “they never last.” I tip him thirty silver songs; The till rings out—erases wrongs. Neon pinions over gin, Open late—let sinners in. The last bar open in heaven—pour it slow. If I find her name in foam, I’ll go. Hold the door till morning’s crow; The last bar open in heaven—pour it slow. Jukebox hums a funeral twist; I dance alone, uncross my wrist. The phone box rings—her number saved; I let it ring, then call—and cave. Stools like pews; a relic line: A matchbook, one bent saints’ day coin. The last bar open in heaven—pour it slow. If I find her name in foam, I’ll go. Hold the door till morning’s crow; The last bar open in heaven—pour it slow. “One more prayer.” “Make it neat.” He tunes his wings like feedback—low— A tremor through the radio. If she walks in, I’ll let it go… The last bar open in heaven—pour it slow.
Lyrics
Bartender Gabriel wipes the glass Says son, your storm will also pass I tip him thirty silver songs He rings the till, forgives my wrongs Neon wings above the gin Open late, let sinners in The last bar open in heaven, pour it slow If I find her name in the foam I’ll go Hold the door till the morning crow The last bar open in heaven, pour it slow Jukebox hums a funeral twist I dance alone, I cross my wrist A phone box rings, it’s only rain I answer anyway, say her name Stools like pews, I take my seat Line of saints with aching feet The last bar open in heaven, pour it slow If I find her name in the foam I’ll go Hold the door till the morning crow The last bar open in heaven, pour it slow One more prayer Make it neat The last bar open in heaven, pour it slow I’ll pay my tab when the seraphs know If she walks in, I’ll let it go The last bar open in heaven, pour it slow
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