[INTRO] [VERSE 1 | gritty country vocal | laid-back shuffle] The courthouse burned , the banks went bust, Main Street's buried under radioactive dust. The preacher's gone, the sheriff lost his star. But the neon still buzzes at the Last Chance Bar. There's a cyborg cowboy at the end of the bar, With a chrome-plated arm and a hole where his heart was. He's drinking cheap whiskey through a stainless jaw, Saying, "Hell, I've seen worse," like he's seen it all. The jukebox died in the nuclear heat. An AI band plays some old outlaw heat. The drummer short circuits, the singer's got strings, And the bass player hasn't had a pulse since spring. [PRE-CHORUS | building tension | kick drum enters] Outside, them drones keep circling slow, The generator coughs like it's fixing to blow. The bartender says, "Boys, don't look at the sky..." Then the front door opens, and the room goes quiet. [CHORUS | big outlaw country | driving drums, steel guitar] Raise 'em up at the Last Chance Bar, Where the dead towns end and the lost souls are. Let the robots fiddle, let the steel guitar cry, We got one more round before the stars fall from the sky. There's a two-step shuffle on a cracked tile floor, A shotgun leaning by the bathroom door. If the world wants to end, it can’t go too far, 'Cause the whiskey's still flowing at the Last Chance Bar. [VERSE 2 | rough, conversational | bass and drums groove] There's a lady with a laser where her left eye shines, Still wearing blue jeans from the good old times. She's dancing with a cowboy who's half machine, And he's got the smoothest moves this side of the quarantine. A drone drops in through a hole in the roof, Gets tangled in the ceiling fan, loses a screw. The bartender shoots it with a sawed-off twelve, Says, "We don't serve the government, or machines that spy on themselves." Then the lights turn red and the floorboards shake, The generator screams like a rattlesnake. The AI singer skips on a digital note, But the guitar keeps wailing the last song he wrote . [PRE-CHORUS | rising grit | snare builds] The windows rattle, the bottles slide, Something big is moving on the other side. Then the hinges groan and the old doors swing, And a stranger walks in like he owns everything. [CHORUS | full band | rowdy gang vocals] Raise 'em up at the Last Chance Bar, Where the dead towns end and the lost souls are. Let the robots fiddle, let the steel guitar cry, We got one more round before the stars fall from the sky. There's a two-step shuffle on a cracked tile floor, A shotgun leaning by the bathroom door. If the world wants to end, it can’t go too far 'Cause the whiskey's still flowing at the Last Chance Bar. [BRIDGE | half-time, ominous | tremolo guitar, low vocal] He wore a white coat, dusty boots, A silver medallion and a strange tattoo. Had a chef's knife strapped where a six-gun goes, And a smile like a man who knows what nobody knows. He looked at the bottles, looked at the band, Then he raised one finger and the music went dead. Name's Chef Juan Sho Nuff Holly, boys... I didn't come here just to drink is all he said. [BREAKDOWN | spoken over sparse bass and ticking percussion] The bartender swallowed. The cyborg sat straight. The drones outside stopped moving. And the jukebox whispered... "System update." [VERSE 3 | darkly playful | stomp-clap rhythm] Chef Juan pulled up a stool by the wall, Said, "I got a little recipe that'll save you all." Mixed moonshine, hot sauce, and a vial of blue, Threw in something glowing that nobody knew. The AI band booted with a hell of a roar, The generator quit shaking and started keeping score. The dead neon flickered, then burned bright gold, And the band played a song over a hundred years old. He tipped his hat and he winked at the crowd, Said, "The end of the world ain't a reason to bow." Then he slid through the smoke with a grin on his face, Leaving boot prints glowing all over the place. [FINAL CHORUS | huge, defiant | soaring steel, gang vocals] Raise 'em up at the Last Chance Bar, Where the dead towns end and the lost souls are. Let the robots fiddle, let the steel guitar cry, We got one more round and we're not asking why. There's a two-step shuffle on a cracked tile floor, Now the whole damn wasteland's banging on the door. Let the satellites drop like a bright falling star We'll be drinking and dancing at the Last Chance Bar. [OUTRO | stripped-down acoustic guitar | warm, raspy vocal] The sun came up through a radioactive haze, The band kept playing like the good old days. Chef Juan left town in a cloud of blue smoke Burning steel and rubber like it was no joke And the bartender found a folded up note "Keep the kitchen open” … is all he wrote.
