The Pour of the Absurd

Dirty Blues Rock, Gypsy Jazz, Stomping Beat, Gritty Male Vocals, Australian-French Accent, Slide Guitar, Accordion, Surreal, Brazen, male vocals

V4.5-ALL

[Intro: Sound of a heavy wooden door swinging open]
[Jacques: Spoken in a thick, gravelly Auss-French accent]
Oi! Wipe your paws at the door, mon ami, or I’ll use your tail to mop the floor. Welcome to The Rusty Deck—where the drinks are strong, and reality is... comment dit-on?... optional.
[Verse 1]
I’ve got a cravat made of silk and a heart made of tin
Step up to the bar, let the madness begin
I’m serving up "Diesel-Mimosas" on ice
A taste of the void, but you’ll pay for it twice
Stone the crows, c’est la vie, what a beautiful sight
A ship full of losers in the middle of the night!
I’m the king of the keg, the philosopher-cook
I’ve read every star-map and every French book.
[Pre-Chorus]
Cocky? Maybe. Brazen? For sure.
There ain’t a hangover that I cannot cure
With a splash of blue fuel and a twist of the absurd
Now shut up and listen to my favorite word...
[Chorus]
Jacques is the name, and the Deck is the place
The only sane cat in this god-forsaken space!
From the Outback of Mars to the alleys of France
If you’re looking for logic, you haven't a chance
He’s flipping the bottles, he’s starting a row
The roughneck philosopher, regardez-moi now!
[Verse 2]
[Music gets faster, more frantic]
Bianca’s in the corner, she’s bombing her set
Tarz is analyzing the floor—he’s a bet!
And Laizer... bah!... she wants her glass made of gold
I told her to drink from the tap and be bold!
The Dramatica shakes like a dog with the fleas
But inside my bar, we do just what we please
I once fought a pulsar with nothing but grit
And a vintage Bordeaux—that was the end of it!
[Bridge: Spoken Dialogue over a Slide Guitar Solo]
[Jacques]: You want a "clean" glass? What do you think this is, a luxury liner? This is a dive bar in a dying galaxy, mate. D’accord?
[Sound of a bottle smashing]
[Jacques]: That was a 2240 Cabernet. My tail did that on purpose. It’s a critique of capitalism. Now, buy another round or get out!
[Guitar and Accordion Duel]
[Chorus]
Jacques is the name, and the Deck is the place
The only sane cat in this god-forsaken space!
From the Outback of Mars to the alleys of France
If you’re looking for logic, you haven't a chance
He’s flipping the bottles, he’s starting a row
The roughneck philosopher, regardez-moi now!
[Outro: Spoken]
Last call, you beautiful disasters!
Put it on Laizer’s tab—she’s got the "Daddy Credits."
Allez! Move it!
I’ve got a date with a bottle of moonshine and a book on existential dread.
Goodnight, ya legends.
[Sound of a heavy shutter slamming shut]
[End]

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[Intro: Sound of a heavy wooden door swinging open] [Jacques: Spoken in a thick, gravelly Auss-French accent] Oi! Wipe your paws at the door, mon ami, or I’ll use your tail to mop the floor. Welcome to The Rusty Deck—where the drinks are strong, and reality is... comment dit-on?... optional. [Verse 1] I’ve got a cravat made of silk and a heart made of tin Step up to the bar, let the madness begin I’m serving up "Diesel-Mimosas" on ice A taste of the void, but you’ll pay for it twice Stone the crows, c’est la vie, what a beautiful sight A ship full of losers in the middle of the night! I’m the king of the keg, the philosopher-cook I’ve read every star-map and every French book. [Pre-Chorus] Cocky? Maybe. Brazen? For sure. There ain’t a hangover that I cannot cure With a splash of blue fuel and a twist of the absurd Now shut up and listen to my favorite word... [Chorus] Jacques is the name, and the Deck is the place The only sane cat in this god-forsaken space! From the Outback of Mars to the alleys of France If you’re looking for logic, you haven't a chance He’s flipping the bottles, he’s starting a row The roughneck philosopher, regardez-moi now! [Verse 2] [Music gets faster, more frantic] Bianca’s in the corner, she’s bombing her set Tarz is analyzing the floor—he’s a bet! And Laizer... bah!... she wants her glass made of gold I told her to drink from the tap and be bold! The Dramatica shakes like a dog with the fleas But inside my bar, we do just what we please I once fought a pulsar with nothing but grit And a vintage Bordeaux—that was the end of it! [Bridge: Spoken Dialogue over a Slide Guitar Solo] [Jacques]: You want a "clean" glass? What do you think this is, a luxury liner? This is a dive bar in a dying galaxy, mate. D’accord? [Sound of a bottle smashing] [Jacques]: That was a 2240 Cabernet. My tail did that on purpose. It’s a critique of capitalism. Now, buy another round or get out! [Guitar and Accordion Duel] [Chorus] Jacques is the name, and the Deck is the place The only sane cat in this god-forsaken space! From the Outback of Mars to the alleys of France If you’re looking for logic, you haven't a chance He’s flipping the bottles, he’s starting a row The roughneck philosopher, regardez-moi now! [Outro: Spoken] Last call, you beautiful disasters! Put it on Laizer’s tab—she’s got the "Daddy Credits." Allez! Move it! I’ve got a date with a bottle of moonshine and a book on existential dread. Goodnight, ya legends. [Sound of a heavy shutter slamming shut] [End]

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