A corner dive down on the square

Where the windows hang with a neon flare

Regulars shoot horse and poolWhile the barmaid wishes the place half full

She works the jar with a discount flirt

With a faded Houston Oilers shirt

While an old crow sings down on the stage

Thumbing the chords on a crinkled page

He plays his Zevon tune

Beneath the gulf moon

Take a walk down along the wall

You′ll go right on past the carnival

Hand in hand with the keeper kind

The kind that ties to the ties that bind

They don't care for the carnie man

Or the fortune teller that reads your hand

They just beeline for a bungalow

Where the curtains flutter

And candles glow in the heart of June

Beneath the gulf moon

Here I′m on a midnight porch

Looking up at a butane torch

That hangs behind a black expanse

Where the stars flicker and planets dance

It is probably time I pack it in

With a glass half-full of Jameson

Well I was born to croon

I might as well

Beneath the gulf moon

Down by the jetty near the Balinese Pier

The curmudgeons drink the yellow belly beer

And they bitch about the price of gas

And the fish that they can't seem to catch

They blame it on the islands way down south

From the bayou marsh and the delta mouth

Where the choppers are rollin and tankers come

In the midnight daze for the oil drum

They can't leave too soon

Beneath the gulf moon