Eggs and Sausage Tom Waits

Nighthawks at the diner of Emma's Forty-Niner
There's a rendezvous of strangers around the coffee urn tonight
All the gypsy hacks and 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? Yeah...'

It's a graveyard charade, it's a late shift masquerade
And it's two for a quarter, dime for a dance
Woolworth's rhinestone diamond earrings and a sideways glance
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? Yeah

Now well, the classified section offers no direction
It's a cold caffeine in a nicotine cloud
Now the touch of your fingers lingers burning in my memory
I've been eighty-sixed from your scheme
Now I'm in a melodramatic nocturnal scene
Now I'm a refugee from a disconcerted affair
Now the lead pipe morning falls, now the waitress calls