Well it started in a barroom and moved on to a bedroom
Now the midnight lovers are strangers on Sunday morning

He buttoms his shirt and he rubs his head
Looks across at the woman covered up on the bed
He walks to the window and stares out at the street
And underneath the blanket she slips on her robe
Says do you want some coffee he says her no
They struggle through a conversation where the eyes never meet

Well it started in a barroom...

He carefully works on a look of surprise
Glances down at his watch and he widen his eyes
Says oh my God it's eleven honey I've got to run
As he's talkin' he stands up to go
She smiles to herself as they walk through the door
They kiss like bashful children in the morning sun

Well it started in a barroom...

Last night she was a fine looking girl today she looks so plain
She thought he had a sensational smile
But in the morning light it looks a little bit strange

Well it started in a barroom...
Now the midnight lovers are strangers on Sunday morning