Waitress Blues

“I went home with the waitress
the way I always do…” – Warren Zevon

Well…the coffee was cold
But the waitress was hot
And I could say where I was
But I would rather not
Some things it’s just better
To try to forget
But as hard as a I try
I’ve not forgotten yet

That the coffee was cold
But the waitress was hot
I could say where I was
But I would rather not

I could name the town
But that would not be wise

The memory plays tricks
And it likes telling lies
With an old song’s words
Ringing in my head
I let the dark-eyed waitress
Take me home to her bed

I could name the town
But that would not be wise
‘cause the memory plays tricks
And it likes telling lies

In the morning I head
For god-knows-where
With my heart and my body

In need of repair
With her scent on my skin
And her voice in my head
And my youth left dying
On her unmade bed

And in the morning I head
For god-knows-where
With my heart and my body
In need of repair

The coffee was cold
But the waitress was hot
And I could say where I was
But I would rather….