The story behind this song
He knew the jukebox numbers off by heart — B-17, every night. He told the borrowed-canoe story sixteen times and it got better with every telling. He showed up with a truck whenever someone moved, and slipped the new guy twenty when his luck ran thin, then swore everyone to silence with that crooked grin.
So nobody's whispering. The empty stool at the end of the bar stays his, the round gets poured anyway, and the laughing and the crying happen in the same breath. For the friends sending off the one who'd never forgive a quiet room.
Lyrics
Bartender, one more round
And leave the empty stool right where it's found
And leave the empty stool right where it's found
You knew the jukebox numbers off by heart
B-17, every night, right from the start
You told the story of the borrowed canoe
Sixteen times, and it got better every time you blew it too
The whole bar smells like peanuts and spilled beer
Man, you should be here
B-17, every night, right from the start
You told the story of the borrowed canoe
Sixteen times, and it got better every time you blew it too
The whole bar smells like peanuts and spilled beer
Man, you should be here
So we're not gonna whisper
You'd never forgive a quiet room
You'd never forgive a quiet room
Raise a glass to you, old friend
Tell the canoe one over again
Laugh 'til the crying looks the same
Sing the chorus, shout your name
You always said, don't waste a night being blue
So we'll grieve you the only way you'd let us —
We raise a glass to you
Tell the canoe one over again
Laugh 'til the crying looks the same
Sing the chorus, shout your name
You always said, don't waste a night being blue
So we'll grieve you the only way you'd let us —
We raise a glass to you
You showed up with a truck every time someone moved
Never asked, just honked, like that's what Saturdays were for
You'd slip the new guy twenty when his luck ran thin
Then swear us all to silence with that crooked grin
The stool's still empty at the end
That's yours — no one's sitting there again
Never asked, just honked, like that's what Saturdays were for
You'd slip the new guy twenty when his luck ran thin
Then swear us all to silence with that crooked grin
The stool's still empty at the end
That's yours — no one's sitting there again
So we're not gonna whisper
You'd never forgive a quiet room
You'd never forgive a quiet room
Raise a glass to you, old friend
Tell the canoe one over again
Laugh 'til the crying looks the same
Sing the chorus, shout your name
You always said, don't waste a night being blue
So we'll grieve you the only way you'd let us —
We raise a glass to you
Tell the canoe one over again
Laugh 'til the crying looks the same
Sing the chorus, shout your name
You always said, don't waste a night being blue
So we'll grieve you the only way you'd let us —
We raise a glass to you
Twenty years from now, some kid'll ask
Who's B-17 for, on the bar in brass
And we'll pull up a stool and start it slow:
"Buddy, let me tell you about a guy you shoulda known..."
Who's B-17 for, on the bar in brass
And we'll pull up a stool and start it slow:
"Buddy, let me tell you about a guy you shoulda known..."
Raise a glass to you, old friend
Tell the canoe one over again
Laugh 'til the crying looks the same
Sing the chorus, shout your name
You always said, don't waste a night being blue
So we'll grieve you the only way you'd let us —
We raise a glass to you
Tell the canoe one over again
Laugh 'til the crying looks the same
Sing the chorus, shout your name
You always said, don't waste a night being blue
So we'll grieve you the only way you'd let us —
We raise a glass to you
B-17 is playing
The stool stays yours
We're staying
The stool stays yours
We're staying
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