In my brain I run a bar

In my brain I run a bar,
I call it "The Day's Ruin"
'Cause inside it's always dark
And noisy enough to deafen.
This time of year, sure,
It does a bang-up business.
Smoking's fine, I assure my customers,
It's crowded, hot and airless.
The windows have shutters,
There's nothing to see out there.
There're sound system speakers in each ear -
You may sit on the couch and plead,
But I'll neither see nor hear.
They're doing lines in the johns,
They're playing keno and watching football,
Glued to the flat screens.
I keep setting 'em up for free,
In here, what would the currency be?
Then there's the karaoke,
I'm the boss, I shouldn't allow it...
If only I could suppress it!
Fuck those old songs.
The drunk leaning on the counter goes:
"When young I dreamt I'd be an artist,
Now I manage software projects."
She's not bad looking,
I take her to one of the rooms upstairs,
Lie with her on a mattress.

At closing time I look out
You must've left some time ago
And I didn't notice.
In my brain I run a bar
This time of year, sure,
It does a bang-up business.
I paid for it with the past,
With the ruin of every promise.