Twelve year old whiskey

The crowds have dispersed
And the bubble has burst
And the bar-room is quiet once more.
The bartender jokes
With some hillbilly folks
While Conchita and Raul sweep the floor.
A man with a scar
Eyes the till on the bar
But decides that it may be too risky.
On an old upturned crate
Reclines twelve year old Kate
With a bottle of twelve year old whiskey.

The jukebox is playing
A song sad and swaying,
The click of the pool cue cracks loud.
The dawn is approaching,
Reality encroaching,
Stale smoke hangs above in a cloud.
A maudlin old hag
Takes a drag of her fag
And recalls how she used to be frisky,
And though it is late,
There sits twelve year old Kate
With a bottle of twelve year old whiskey.

Reality bites,
Someone turns up the lights,
The customers shirk from the glare.
The corner chair scrapes,
The old hag escapes
And the hillbillies slump in the chair.
Raul gives dark looks
As he does up the books,
Typing slowly in case he might miss-key.
And in a drawn, haggard state,
The young twelve year old Kate
Drains the last of her twelve year old whiskey.

.

Looking at the menu one night, Emmet remarked "Hey Kate, they have whiskey especially for you!"