She stares into her coffee and contemplates the offer
She's been made by some blue-collar boy
Who whispered crude advances that questioned her morality
Doing little for her vanity in the mirror on the wall
And her bobby pins start rusting from the kitchen's busy steam
And there's too much starch in her apron strings
And the tables nick her seams
She's a waitress in a roadhouse
On a highway from east to west
Pouring warm words into cold hearts
In pursuit of happiness
And the radio plays around the clock
As she puts her thoughts to rest
She's a waitress in a roadhouse
On a highway from east to west
Jacky he's a big man, he wears a greasy white Stetson
Pats her rear and calls her silly girl
As she describes her fantasy of a trailer home in Bakersfield
Where the asphalt sizzles like hot cakes on the griddle
And she's running close to forty with a couple of extra pounds
Tuck tightly in her uniform and firmly flatten down
As the highway snakes up ahead into the morning mist
She wishes that blue-collar boy had left her more than this...
As the moth flies around the neon lights so blindly and so dumb
She thinks of wings on which someday she may at last move on
musica
di Josquin des Pres/Mark Paladino/Richie Zito (dall'album Turn Back The Hands Of Time di Deirdre Hughes, 2007)
