And so we’ve had another night
　　　Of poetry and proses
　　　And each man know he’ll be alone
　　　When the sacred ginmill closes

　　　And so we’ll drink the final glass
　　　Each to his joy and sorrow
　　　And hope the numbing drunk will last
　　　Till opening tomorrow

　　　And when we stumble back again
　　　Like paralytic dancers
　　　Each knows the question he must ask
　　　And each man knows the answer

　　　And so we’ll drink the final drink
　　　That cuts the brain in sections
　　　Where answers do not signify
　　　And there aren’t any questions

　　　I broke my heart the other day
　　　It will mend again tomorrow
　　　If I'd been drunk when I was born
　　　I'd be ignorant of sorrow

　　　And so we'll drink the final toast
　　　That never can be spoken
　　　Here's to the heart that is wise enough
　　　To know when it's better off broke