It’s late at night and here I am
I’m on the road again
Wishing girl that you were here with me
Playing dives for one night stands ain’t what you’d call the easy life
And through it all I need some company

Chorus
Beats me why I love it so when each bar looks the same
I’ll take my fifty bucks and go, and tomorrow they won’t remember my name
It doesn’t matter where I am
Or who I’m playing for
It’s the sad songs they want most of anything
They’re really here just to be depressed and the sad songs always do it best
And the sad songs, Lord knows, I know how to sing

Chorus

If I had any sense
I’d be with you now
Lying in the warmest arms I know
But something inside me just makes me go on
Singing my songs for people I don’t even know

Chorus

© 2014 Peter C. Marcantel

Background:

Unlike the guy in this song, I haven’t spent my life on the bar circuit. I have played my share of them, though, and know what it’s like to be on the road. When I started playing gigs in my late teens the idea was that I would be the next John Denver or Jim Croce. Instead I found myself playing at the Red Rose Lounge and the Lakeshore Club in Lake Arthur, Louisiana, with a band called Jerry Gott and the Saddle Tramps. (If you’re still out there, Jerry, I hope you’re still singing!)

At some point I realized that there was quite a difference between being John Denver and being a Saddle Tramp. Still, the music is there inside you and you have to let it out. Whether you’re playing to an arena filled with 10,000 people or you’re at a dive with 15 folks who are “really here just to be depressed,” it’s a great feeling to make a connection and find someone who likes what you’re doing. And that’s why musicians keep singing their songs for people they don’t even know.