The tiny bar, off the narrow alley,
Only seats six, or maybe eight,
Presided over by Mama-san and
Bottles of sake, lined-up straight,
Next to an eight-track tape
Karaoke box, which I activate
With one hundred yen coins,
And start singing all the great
Oldies, songs so distant from
Tokyo and its metabolic rate,
Yet, here, in this Golden Gai
Corner, good times reverberate...
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