I was sitting on a bar stool
Drowning in my beer,
When I noticed from across the bar
An ol' timer's distant stare.
He had one eye on a photo,
and a bad eye behind a patch.
He looked as if he was longing.
From the world he seemed detached.
So I whispered to the barmaid,
"This next round, it's on me."
He toasted me from across the bar,
And said "Come sit by me."
So I made my way across the bar
and settled by his chair.
He said "My name is Thomas,
and this, my friend, is Claire."
A black and white old photo,
frayed along the sides,
Of a beautiful young lady,
flowing hair and pretty eyes.
"Forty years together,
My one and only love.
I prayed one day I'd find her.
She's my answer from above."
"Each night we spend together,
and we dance the whole night through.
We talk until the sun comes up,
Nothing else we'd rather do."
And with that I saw a glistening
A tear in his one good eye.
He quietly got off his chair,
And tipped his cap goodbye.
A cane that had been hanging
On the coat rack across the floor,
Helped to steady his foot steps
As he shuffled out the door.
I yelled "Will I see you tomorrow?"
He grinned and gave a wink,
"Perhaps the good Lord willing,
and then I'll buy the drinks."
"Can I ask just one more question,
before you leave tonight?
You seem to struggle walking,
So how do you dance all night?"
The old man paused a moment,
His head then bowed to the floor.
"Ahh a question worth repeating,
I've heard a thousand times before."
"My Claire, she died, a few years back."
He said with a tearful sigh.
"So now when I want to dance all night,
I just close my one good eye."