Late Set Worn Needle

Coat on a nail by the door, tab on The bar from the afternoon crowd. You slide in late like a rumor, Laugh just a little too loud. Oh yeah. Ash in the tray by your elbow, Lipstick print on a paper cup. You say, "Play something for the tired ones," And I just look up. This is the late set, worn needle, Round and round the same old groove. Every scar on my voice got your name, Got your move. If you're staying till closing, Baby, I'll bend till I break. On this late set, worn needle, Spinning us back to our mistakes. Shadow of smoke on the ceiling, Shuffle of shoes by the backroom door. You sway on a cracked vinyl barstool like we've Both been here before. Tips in a chipped old teacup, bartender wiping down The day. You mouth the words while I'm singing, Then you look away. This is the late set, worn needle, Round and round the same old groove. Every scar on my voice got your name, Got your move. If you're staying till closing, Baby, I'll bend till I break. On this late set, worn needle, Spinning us back to our mistakes. Every time you clap on the offbeat, My heart slips a half step too. I keep trading old verses for new ones, But they circle back to you. Yeah, it's still the late set, Worn needle, round and round the same old groove. Every scar on my voice got your name, Got your move. If you're waiting past last call, Baby, I'll bend till I break. On this late set, worn needle, Till the night gives us a clean Break.