Old Buk Song

[Instrumental Intro] (Verse 1) Old Buk, the poet of the drunks, Of torn loves and dried-up dreams, His life a mosaic of errors and luck, A raw portrait of our own barren scenes. (Chorus) In the streets where the shadows linger, He finds his muse in the fallen figures, With whiskey in hand and a cigarette light, He writes the tales of our endless nights. [Guitar Solo] (Verse 2) From barstools to the darkened rooms, He spins the yarn of life's harsh tunes, With words that cut through the smoky air, Bukowski's truth, laid bare and fair. (Chorus) In the streets where the shadows linger, He finds his muse in the fallen figures, With whiskey in hand and a cigarette light, He writes the tales of our endless nights. [Guitar Solo] (Bridge) He's the man against the wall, a vagabond soul, In the gutter, he finds what makes us whole, From "Post Office" to "Love is a Dog from Hell", His verses ring like a midnight bell. [Guitar Solo] (Chorus) In the streets where the shadows linger, He finds his muse in the fallen figures, With whiskey in hand and a cigarette light, He writes the tales of our endless nights. [Instrumental Outro]