That old guy at the pool table

Verse 1
Back when I was young and thirsty,
Quarters lined along the rail,
I’d wait my turn and size ’em up,
Thinking surely they would fail.
Then some gray-haired guy would wander in,
Quiet as a church mouse prayer,
Call the bank, put spin on whitey,
And leave me standing there.

Chorus
I hated that old guy at the pool table,
Knew the angles, knew the rails,
Knew the English, knew the speed,
Knew a hundred little tales.
He’d sink the eight and take my quarters,
Never brag and never gloat.
Now I look into the mirror—
Lord, I’ve become that old goat.

Verse 2
I used to think it had to be cheating,
Nobody sees a shot like that.
Three rails down and back around,
Then dead behind the seven-ball trap.
He’d chalk his cue like he had all night,
While I was sweating out my beer,
Then softly say, “You left me something,”
And make it disappear.

Chorus
I hated that old guy at the pool table,
Knew the angles, knew the rails,
Knew the English, knew the speed,
Knew a hundred little tales.
He’d sink the eight and take my quarters,
Never brag and never gloat.
Now I look into the mirror—
Lord, I’ve become that old goat.

Verse 3
There’s a Dynamo in the game room,
Coin-op beauty, built to last,
Ten years playing almost daily,
Learning lessons from the past.
We made a game called Fukushima,
Best of three and loser racks,
And every year the shots get cleaner,
Every year we know the tracks.

Bridge
Now some younger guy might wander in,
With confidence and twenty bucks,
Thinking, “Look at those two old fellas—
This should be a little luck.”
Then I feather in a side-pocket cut,
Draw the cue ball off the rail,
And somewhere deep inside I hear
My younger self just wail.

Final Chorus
I am that old guy at the pool table,
Know the angles, know the rails,
Know the English, know the speed,
Know a few old barroom tales.
I don’t hustle, I don’t shark ’em,
I just play the shot I know.
But if you put your quarters on the table,
Son, you might be here a while before I go.

Tag
Funny how the years keep rolling,
Funny how the tables turn.
I used to hate those old pool players—
Now I’m the one they hate to draw.