Last Dance at Salinas

The barroom is cold and half empty.

The floor has been swept so it's clean.

Pushed back in the corner with the face of a mourner

Sits a dutiful U. S. Marine

Then prancing on in through the doorway

And swinging her hips like a pro

Comes a middle aged townie and when she looks down,

Oh, she focuses on G. I. Joe.

Oh, she says her name's Betty Grable

And he says he's really John Wayne

When you're five miles from nowhere with nothing,

Who gives a damn 'bout a name?

Now he don't look much like a cowboy

And her legs aren't perfectly formed,

But they dance through the night as the jukebox sets right

All the longings that long nights have born.

And they dance like there's no beginning

And they love like the pictures they've seen

At the Bijou on Fourth Street and Broadway

In the light of the silvery screen.

So if you say your name's Betty Grable,

I'll say I'm really John Wayne.

When you're five miles from nowhere with nothing,

Who gives a damn 'bout a name?

When you're five miles from nowhere with nothing, Who gives a damn 'bout a name?