Eggs and sausage (in a cadillac with susan michelson)

nighthawks at the diner of Emma's 49er, there's a rendezvous of strangers around the coffee urn tonight all the gypsy hacks, the insomniacs now the paper's been read now the waitress said CHORUS eggs and sausage and a side of toast coffee and a roll, hash browns over easy chile in a bowl with burgers and fries what kind of pie? In a graveyard charade, a late shift masquerade 2 for a quarter, dime for a dance with Woolworth rhinestone diamond earrings, and a sideway's glance and now the register rings and now the waitress sings CHORUS the classified section offered no direction it's a cold caffeine in a nicotine cloud now the touch of your fingers lingers burning in my memory I've been 86ed from your scheme I'm in a melodramatic nocturnal scene I'm a refugee from a disconcerted affair as the lead pipe morning falls and the waitress calls CHORUS