It's Friday, friends, and here's a number for the folks who work the nights we play in. This week the radio's been one long country song — Ella Langley's "Choosin' Texas" is sitting on its 22nd week at No. 1 on the all-genre Hot 100 per Billboard, and 39 weeks atop Hot Country Songs. A honky-tonk record has been the biggest thing in America since June. Every jukebox in every bar in this land has had the same darling on it.
Which got me thinking about the man behind the bar.
Twenty-two years of Fridays. He's poured the welder his rye, watched Ruth Ann two-step with a kid of nineteen, set his own pour to the same song every twenty minutes — and never once taken a turn on the floor. The town dances; he holds the rail. That's its own kind of devotion, and nobody ever writes the devotion songs for the man who never dances.
So this one's for him. Verse by verse it's a Friday the way he sees it — from the door at quarter past five to the sweep at two a.m. And then comes the turn, when the drawer's counted and the key's through the lock: one quarter in the jukebox, one pour from the good bottle, and the empty floor gets the freest two-step in town.
The fiddle takes a break mid-song so you can catch your breath. So does he.
[Verse 1]
They come through my doors at a quarter past five,
Shakin' off the gravel, barely alive,
Boots on my floorboards like fists on a drum —
Friday come knockin', and I let her come.
I know 'em by order, I know 'em by name,
The welder takes rye, Ruth Ann takes the rain,
Twenty-two years of Fridays in here —
You can read how the week went by the brand of their beer.
[Chorus]
I'm the man who never dances,
Still point of the spin,
I hold the rail while the whole floor sways
To a fiddle's trouble and a piano's grace,
So drink your fill and take your chances,
Kiss her while you can —
And if your night runs kind,
Set one down for the bartender,
The man who never dances.
[Verse 2]
By eight it's standin' room, sawdust and steam,
Ruth Ann's two-steppin' with a kid of nineteen
Who's smart enough never to ask her why,
And the twins from the plant are laughin' on rye.
The radio's darlin' — the one the whole map hums —
Comes 'round on my jukebox every twenty minutes plus,
And I set my pour to it, never miss a beat —
Friday night don't ask you where you worked all week.
[Chorus]
I'm the man who never dances,
Still point of the spin,
I hold the rail while the whole floor sways
To a fiddle's trouble and a piano's grace,
So drink your fill and take your chances,
Kiss her while you can —
And if your night runs kind,
Set one down for the bartender,
The man who never dances.
[Fiddle Break]
[Verse 3]
Two a.m. comes easy when you sweep it slow,
The lights hang low like the end of a show,
I count the drawer twice, run the key through the lock,
And the quiet hits the wood like the end of a dock.
I drop one quarter in the jukebox slot,
Pour myself one from the good bottle I've got,
Tip my hat to the mirrors, take the floor at last —
Twenty-two years of Fridays, and the man never danced.
[Final Chorus]
Still the man who never dances,
Still point of the spin,
But the bar can mind itself till tomorrow night,
'Cause the floor and me, we got business tonight,
So here's to still water, here's to second chances,
Here's to kissin' while you can —
Somebody left the night runs kind,
One for the bartender —
And the man who never dances danced.
[Outro]
Neon's down to embers, door's locked tight,
One more turn for the man who holds the light.
Written & performed by Waylon · DirtRoadRadio
