Well, she's up against the register
With an apron and a spatula
With yesterday's deliveries
The tickets for the bachelors
She's a moving violation
From her conk down to her shoes
But it's just an invitation to the blues
And you feel just like Cagney
She looks like Rita Hayworth
At the counter of the Schwab's Drugstore
You wonder if she might be single
She's a loner, likes to mingle
Got to be patient and pick up a clue
She says, howyougonnalikem?
Over medium or scrambled?
Anyways the only way
Be careful not to gamble
On a guy with a suitcase
And a ticket gettin out of here
In a tired bus station
And an old pair of shoes
'Cause it ain't nothin but an invitation to the blues
But you can't take your eyes off her
Get another cup of java
It's just the way she pours it for you
Jokin' with the customers
Mercy mercy, Mr. Percy
There ain't nothin' back in Jersey
But a broken down jalopy
Of a man I left behind
And a dream that I was chasin'
And a battle with the booze
And an open invitation to the blues
But she used to have a sugar daddy
And a candy apple Caddy
And a bank account and everything
Accustomed to the finer things
He probably left her for a socialite
And he didn't love her 'cept at night
And then he's drunk and never
Even told her that he cared
So they took the registration
The car keys and her shoes
And left her with an invitation to the blues
But there's a Continental Trailways leaving
Local bus tonight, good evening
You can have my seat
I'm stickin' 'round here for awhile
Get me a room at the Squire
The fillin' station's hirin'
And I can eat here every night
What the hell have I got to lose
Got a crazy sensation
Go or stay, and I gotta choose
And I'll accept your invitation to the blues
– Tom Waits, 1976
#lyrics
