(Beckley/Quillen)
Back in the early 90's when I lived in Nashville, I used to go to a bar called "The Rose Room" on Murfreesboro Road near the Nashville Airport. The Airport Commission or somesuch bought the bar and surrounding property and turned it into an airport parking lot. So I wrote a lyric about it and showed it to Charles Quillen, a good friend and great, great writer, who wrote the melody.
When I heard the news today, I felt like I'd been shot
The city wants to turn this bar into a parking lot
They don't give a damn 'bout folks like you and me
They don't understand this place is living history
Now Jack's worked back behind that bar for nigh on thirty years
He's been there for all of us through blood and sweat and tears
And our old friend the jukebox helps us make it through the night
Lord, we've got to find some way to save our wild life
Chorus:
We've got to start a plan to stop that big, black iron ball
Or soon will be the last time here they'll ever yell "last call"
We've got to stick together and put up some sort of fight
One for all and all for one, let's save our wild life
Out there on the dancefloor we've seen couples fall in love
And the holes next to the phone are where some of them broke up
And right here on this barstool, I killed a memory
We stopped loving her that day, ol' George, Jim Beam and me
There's beer stains on the ceiling and tear stains on the floor
And a few hot numbers on the wall behind the men's room door
Everywhere you look there is some thing to make you think
We've got to save our wild life 'fore it becomes extinct
Repeat Chorus