The Waitress

it's desert ice outside but this diner has thawed my ears

hot coffee in a clean white mug and a smile when the waitress hears

that I was born in North Carolina

not an hour from her home town

and we used to play the same pizza parlor pinball



and there's a glance in time suspended as I wonder how it is

we've been swept up just by circumstance to where the coyote lives

where my days are strips of highway

and she's wiping tables down

holding on and still waiting for that windfall



but I've come home

even though I've never had so far to go

I've come home



I pay the check and leave the change from a crumpled ten-dollar bill

head across the street where VACANCY is burning in neon still

well the night eats up my body heat

and there's no sign of another

and I find myself slipping down into that black



but things are good I've got a lot of followers of my fait