Eggs And Sausage (In A Cadillac With Susan Michelson)

Nighthawks at the diner, Emma’s 49er
There’s a rendezvous of strangers around the coffee urn tonight
All the gypsy hacks, the insomniacs
Now the paper’s been read
Now the waitress said
«Eggs and sausage and a side of toast
Coffee and a roll, hash browns over easy
Chile in a bowl with burgers and fries, what kind of pie?»
In a graveyard charade, a late shift masquerade
And it’s two for a quarter, dime for a dance
With Woolworth Rhinestone diamond earrings
And a sideway’s glance and now the register rings
Now the waitress sings
«Eggs and sausage and a side of toast
Coffee and a roll, hash browns over easy
Chile in a bowl with burgers and fries, what kind of pie?»
Now, the classified section offers no direction
It’s a cold caffeine in a nicotine cloud
As the touch of your fingers
Lingers burning in my memory
I’ve been 86ed from your scheme
Now I’m in a melodramatic nocturnal scene
Now I’m a refugee from a disconcerted affair
Now I lead pipe morning falls
Now the waitress calls
«Eggs and sausage and a side of toast
Coffee and a roll, hash browns over easy
Chile in a bowl with burgers and fries, now what kind of pie?»