HAPPY HOUR (IS THE SADDEST TIME OF DAY)
(Mike Neun)

Ray Stevens - 1985



We used to get hammered ev'ry afternoon at five
And for two hours we'd keep pourin' 'em down
Doubles for two dollars till we could barely survive
Then we'd walk out the door and weave all over town

We were ripped, we were staggered, we were hopelessly blind
We were drunk on love and anything else we could find
But then you sobered up and you drifted away
Now happy hour is the saddest time of the day

Oh, can't you remember the good times we had
With you singin' up at the bar
We would have been terrors out on the road
But we never could locate the car

We were ripped, we were staggered, we were hopelessly blind
We were drunk on love and anything else we could find
But then you sobered up and you drifted away
Now happy hour is the saddest time of the day

SPOKEN:
Oh, Darlin', how could you leave me after all the good times we had
Remember the time you set my car on fire
After you caught me in the back seat with a cocktail waitress
Heh-heh, you talk about a hot date, Whoo!
We nearly melted in each other's arms
And the way you used to light the filter tip end on your cigarette
And then smoke it right down, heh-heh
Said it reminded you of Cleveland
Or the way I used to stagger into the wrong restroom all the time
That's how we met, up close, personal
Or the quiet times when we'd stop to get pizzas
And go home and have nightmares together
Remember the New Year's Eve when you passed out in your ice cream?
Nearly froze to death!
Boy, we're talkin' fun!  How could you leave all that?
I mean it's not as though we were alcoholics
Ten or fifteen cocktails before dinner
A couple o' bottles o' wine, and brandy nightcaps
We knew our limits
Now, now we don't even speak the same language
I speak tequila and you speak cherryade
Might as well be Greek to me

Now I sit drinkin' your doubles and mine
With a million memories, take your pick
And the tears start fallin' like Thunderbird Wine
Just can't go on, I think I'm gonna get sick

We were ripped, we were staggered, we were hopelessly blind
We were drunk on love and anything else we could find
But then you sobered up and you drifted away
Now happy hour is the saddest time
Yes, happy hour is the saddest time
Whoa-oh, happy hour is the saddest time
Of the da-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-a-y



(Transcribed by Mel Priddle - May 2006)