The Ghosts Of Saturday Night lyrics

Artist	Tom Waits
Album(s)	The Heart Of Saturday Night

Lyrics

(After hours at napoleone's pizza house)

A cab combs the snake
Tryin' to rake in that last night's fare
And a solitary sailor
Who spends the facts of his life
Like small change on strangers..

Paws his inside p-coat pocket
For a welcome twenty-five cents
And the last bent butt from a package of kents
As he dreams of a waitress with maxwell house eyes
And marmalade thighs with scrambled yellow hair

Her rhinestone-studded moniker says, "irene"
As she wipes the wisps of dishwater blonde from her eyes

And the texaco beacon burns on
The steel-belted attendant with a 'ring and valve special'..
Cryin' "fill'er up and check that oil"
"You know it could be a distributor and it could be a coil."

The early mornin' final edition's on the stands
And that town cryer's cryin' there with nickels in his hands
Pigs in a blanket sixty-nine cents
Eggs - roll 'em over and a package of kents
Adam and eve on a log, you can sink 'em damn straight
Hash browns, hash browns, you know I can't be late

And the early dawn cracks out a carpet of diamond
Across a cash crop car lot
Filled with twilight coupe devilles
Leaving the town in a-keeping
Of the one who is sweeping
Up the ghost of saturday night..

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