Kachemak Bay

Rising smoke, clinking glass, rose-tinted lights.
Blowing off steam – it’s Friday night.
Long-haired sound man gives a peace sign.
I nod to say everything is fine.

The hardworking barkeep doubles as a priest.
He hears confessions and serves relief.
Tourists aren’t cut out for this kind of place.
I like the tips they give when they stay late.

Sun floats on the waters of Kachemak Bay.
Sparkling diamonds dance on rolling waves.
The midnight sun above this Alaskan saloon.

Grace washes dishes every day of her life.
She deserves the best I can give tonight.
Trapper Dan has seen some long, lean years.
Smoke rises from his fingers, his head falls in his beer.

Pete from the bush gives me the eye.
I guess he hasn’t seen a woman in a while.
Tangled in the corner Bill and Sue just met.
At least this night they won’t forget.

Gathered at the Down East from far, far away.
Fate brought us together at Kachemak Bay.
At the end of the road, is the prettiest place I’ve played.