In a corner of an Island
On America's East Coast,
Is a drinking place called Callahans,
A bar that is a ghost.
For the folks who find their way inside
Are not all who might go,
But the roads and highways send them,
By the ways they need to know.

No one can draw a map to where
The bar may hidden stand;
No one need whisper "Jake sent me,"
Where inside plays a band.
No one will ask for membership
If you make it to the door,
But friendship waits within its walls,
What Callahans is for.

And if your need for solace
None other can provide,
Look for an accidental sign --
We welcome you inside.
Ask for a hot God's Blessing,
And share your tale of woe.
This is the place you've looked for;
And you need not hasty go.

-- Cortland (KA5S) 6/16/2002