I miss my friends tonight, their faces shine for me,
The clamor of their's singing's like some mad calliope.
Still ringing through the Lion's Head until the morning light,
Comedians & Angels, I miss my friends tonight.
With Jameson's or Bushmills, or Trotsky on the rocks;
The Fenian at the barricade, the batter in the box;
A song for every season, a smile in every fight,
Comedians & Angels, I miss my friends tonight.
When Dave was in his glory, and singing Brecht and Weill,
The Clancys hauled a chantey out and gave us Paddy Doyle;
The Mets were either best or worst, and Marx was wrong or right,
Comedians & Angels, I miss my friends tonight.
I wonder where they are now, they could be anywhere;
In Hell or California, or back in Sheraton Square.
They left us where they left us, so we put out the light,
Comedians & Angels, I miss my friends tonight.
Each one drained a parting glass and sailed out to sea,
And what a crew of rogues they made, in gleeful anarchy.
They sang to the horizon a song no pen could write,
Comedians & Angels, I miss my friends tonight.
They sang to the horizon a song no pen could write,
Comedians & Angels, I miss my friends tonight.
