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Mark Knopfler, Stand Up Guy, three times until the time of wars, Lyrics: Brew the coffee in a bucket, Double straight man and banjo If you don’t get the snake oil, Buster, you don’t get a show. Who puts the do-re-me in our pockets, keeps the party going on? It’s the man who sells the potions: I’m just one who plays the songs. Now they generally buy the bigger size. They usually rub it in. I drank it once, it tasted like grease and paraffin. It’s mostly alcohol, okay, you can’t deny it’s strong We were going through the motions ’til the doctor came along. There stands the bottle, Ladies and gentlemen! All these bottles, don’t have to tell you, friends. These days are miracles, don’t come falling from the sky! Raise your glasses to the doctor, to a stand-up guy! When the monkeyshine is flying, and he’s promising the cure, He says the French, for your lovesick blues: La maladie d’amour. He gets the chumps all laughing, but he gets a few to buy. Here’s to beefsteak, when you’re hungry And whiskey when you’re dry. Now the band will blow their moolah, like sailors gone ashore Now we’re going to West Helena, to gamble, drink and whore. Let’s you and me all make whoopee, Here’s mud in your eye Here’s to all the gals you ever want, and heaven when you die. There stands the bottle, Ladies and gentlemen! All these bottles, don’t have to tell you, friends. These days are miracles, don’t come falling from the sky, Raise your glasses to the doctor, To a stand-up guy! There’s a big cheese with a cigar, Been sizing up the show He wants to get the doctor, pitching on the radio. I will make a switch to guitar, but the rules all still apply They want to trust somebody. Yeah, they want a stand-up guy. There stands the bottle. Here’s to absent friends, All these bottles: Dead soldiers in the end. These days are miracles, don’t come falling from the sky, Raise your glasses to the doctor, To a stand-up guy!