I think it was June, on the cusp of July
And Sonia and I had just gotten high
Upstairs from the store where they sell the cheese
And the wine to the people so hard to please
This is a 13-year with a mighty kick
I said it tastes pretty good, how much for a brick
…That's real Wisconsin cheddar, north woods dairy, from Brett Favre's udders…
But we were just passing thru to the bar to play
A couple a songs with the Finnegan's gang
On a Thursday night with an open door
And a microphone, maybe three drinks more
I think Matt was playing, it was "Book of Love"
When I saw the first of a dozen fuzz
…Plainfield's finest, with their guns drawn, like they had found Stacy Peterson shacked up with Machine Gun Kelly…
There were 7 squads, and a chopper, too
The chief of police with a TV crew
I ditched my stash by the ATM
The clock hit midnight and them boys came in
They said "Your liquor license just ran out
So put down your whiskey, drop your stout
…And put all those guitars and banjos where we can see 'em"…
They shut down my favorite bar
And towed away my car
Blew down my chimney
Tore out my heart
And when you're singing your favorite song
And something stops the sing-a-long
Does it come back around
Or just tear you apart
Does it rip out your heart
Well that was just the start
The Manor was built the year Nietzsche was born
So it's a little bit haggard, a little bit worn
But it's a holy place for wayward souls
Who grow up fast, but don't get old
To write on walls and hoot n haller
And supplement the furnace with an indoor fire
Where were you when the chimney fell
When the poets cried and the neighbors yelled
"If we'd a-been out back, we'd be cut in half"
It's a heart attack living next to people like that
Friends, grab a brick, but tell your kids the truth
If it hadn't been the chimney it a-been the roof
…or a boot-stomping-love-having-whiskey-drinking-good-'ol time…
You'll never see the ocean if you cling to the shore
So I said my Hail Manors and I walked out the door
Thank you, Friends, for the time we spent
Let's figure out a way to do it all again
There's a hole in the bucket, and a map to the well
And everybody leaves with a story to tell
…Last Call for Finnegan's and The Overmanor, 3 at 33, picking up bricks by the chimney, and love, love, love…
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