Nighthawks at the Diner

Nobody, Nobody
will ever love you
the way I could love you
cause nobody is that strong
love is bitter sweet
and life's treasures deep
but no one can keep
a love that's gone wrong

Nobody, Nobody
will ever love you
the way I could love you
cause nobody's that strong
cause nobody's that strong

Nobody, Nobody
will ever love you
the way I could love you
cause nobody is that strong
you've had many lovers
you'll have many others
but they'll only just break
your poor heart in two

Nobody, Nobody
will ever love you
the way I could love you
cause nobody's that strong
cause nobody's that strong

[instrumental/monologue]

there's a blur drizzle down the plateglass
as a neon swizzle stick stirrin up the sultry night air
and a yellow biscuit of a buttery cue ball moon
rollin' maverick across an obsidian sky
as the busses go groanin' and wheezin',
down on the corner I'm freezin';
on a restless boulevard at a midnight road
I'm across town from EASY STREET
with the tight knots of moviegoers and out of towners
on the stroll
and the buildings towering high above
lit like dominoes or black dice
all the used car salesmen dressed up in
Purina Checkerboard slacks
and Foster Grant wrap-around,
pacing in front of EARL SCHLEIB
$39.95 merchandise
like barkers at a shootin' gallery
they throw out kind of a Texas Guinan routine
'Hello sucker, we like your money
just as well as anybody else's here'
or they give you the P.T. Barnum bit
'There's a sucker born every minute
you just happened to be comin' along at the right time'
come over here now
you know... all the harlequin sailors are on the stroll
in a search of 'LIKE NEW,' 'NEW PAINT,'
decent factory air and AM-FM dreams
and the piss yellow gypsy cabs
stacked up in the taxi zones waitin' like pinball machines
to be ticking off a joy ride to a magical place
waitin' in line like 'truckers welcome' diners
with dirt lots full of
Peterbilts, Kenworths, Jimmy's and the like, and
they're hiballin' with bankrupt brakes, over driven
under paid, over fed, a day late and a dollar short
but Christ I got my lips around a bottle and
my foot on the throttle and I'm standin' on the corner
standin' on the corner like a 'just in town'
jasper, on a street corner with a gasper lookin'
for some kind of Cheshire billboard grin
stroking a goateed chin, and using parking meters
as walking sticks on the inebriated stroll
with my eyelids propped open at half mast
but you know... over at Chubb's Pool Hall and Snooker
it was a nickle after two, yea it was a nickle after two
and in the cobalt steel blue dream smoke, it
was the radio that groaned out the hit parade
and the chalk squeaked, the floorboards creaked
and an Olympia sign winked through a torn yellow
shade, old Jack Chance himself leanin' up against
a Wurlitzer and eyeballin' out a 5 ball combination shot
impossible you say? ...hard to believe?, perhaps
out of the realm of possibility? naaaa
he be stretchin' out long tawny fingers out across a
cool green felt with a provocative golden gate
and a full table railshot that's no sweat and I leaned
up against my bannister and wandered over to the
Wurlitzer and I punched A-2 I was lookin' for
something like Wine, Wine, Wine by the Night Caps
starring Chuck E. Weiss or High Blood Pressure
by George (cryin' in the streets) Perkins - no dice
'that's life,' that's what all the people say ridin' high
in April, seriously shot down in May, but I know I'm
gonna change that tune when I'm standing underneath
a buttery moon that's all melted off to one side
It was just about that time that the sun
came crawlin' yellow out of a manhole
at the foot of 23rd Street
and a dracula moon in a black disguise
was making its way back to its
pre-paid room at the St. Moritz Hotel (scat)
and the El train came tumbling
across the trestles and it sounded
like the ghost of Gene Krupa
with an overhead cam and glasspacks
and the whispering brushes of wet radials
on a wet pavement and there's a
traffic jam session on Belmont tonight
and the rhapsody of the pending
evening, I leaned up against
my bannister and I've been looking
for some kind of an emotional
investment with romantic dividends
kind of a physical negociation
is underway
as I attempt to consolidate all my
missed weekly payments, into
one-low-monthly payment
through the nose
with romantic residuals and leg akimbo
but the chances are more than likely I'll probably
be held over for another smashed weekend

late night and early morning low clouds
with a chance of fog
chance of showers into the afternoon
with variable high cloudiness
and gusty winds, gusty winds
at times around the corner of
Sunset and Alvorado
things are tough all over
when the thunder storms start
increasing over the southeast
and south central portions
of my apartment, I get upset
and a line of thunderstorms was
developing in the early morning
ahead of a slow moving coldfront
cold blooded
with tornado watches issued shortly
before noon Sunday, for the areas
including, the western region
of my mental health
and the northern portions of my
ability to deal rationally with my
disconcerted precarious emotional
situation, it's cold out there
colder than a ticket taker's smile
at the Ivar Theatre, on a Saturday night
flash flood watches covered the
southern portion of my disposition
there was no severe weather well
into the afternoon, except for a lone gust of
wind in the bedroom
in a high pressure zone, covering the eastern
portion of a small suburban community
with a 103 and millibar high pressure zone
and a weak pressure ridge extending from
my eyes down to my cheeks cause since
you left me baby
and put the vice grips on my mental health
well the extended outlook for an
indefinite period of time until you
come back to me baby is high tonight
low tomorrow, and precipitation is
expected

all my friends are married
every Tom and Dick and Harry
you must be strong
to go it alone
here's to the bachelors
and the bowery bums
and those who feel that they're the ones
who are better off without a wife

I like to sleep until the crack of noon
midnight howlin' at the moon
goin' out when I wanto, comin' home when I please
I don't have to ask permission
if I want to go out fishing
and I never have to ask for the keys

never been no Valentino
had a girl who lived in Reno
left me for a trumpet player
didn't get me down
he was wanted for assault
though he said it weren't his fault
well the coppers rode him right
out of town

(chorus)

selfish about my privacy
as long as I can be with me
we get along so well I can't believe
I love to chew the fat with folks
and listen to all your dirty jokes
I'm so thankful for these friends
I do receive

(chorus)

well the damn cracked hard just like a bull whip
cause it wasn't takin' no lip from the night before
as it shook out the street, the stew bums showed up
just like bounced checks, rubbin' their necks
and the sky turned the color of Pepto-Bismol
and the parking lots growled
and my old sports coat full of promissory notes
and a receipt from a late night motel
and the hawk had his whole family out
there in the wind, and he's got a message
for you to beware cause he be kickin' your
ass in, in a cold blooded fashion
dishin' out more than a good man can bear
I got shoes untied, shirt tail's out, ain't got a
ghost of a chance with this old romance
just an apartment for rent down the block
Ivar Theater with live burlesque
and the manager's scowlin', feet on his desk
boom boom against the curtain
you're still hurtin'
and then push came to shove, shove came to biff
girls like that just lay you out stiff
maybe I'll go to Cleveland or
get me a tattoo or somethin', my brother
in law's there
skid mark tattoo on the asphalt blue
was that a Malibu
Liz Taylor and Montgomery Clift
cumming on to the broads with the
same ol' riff. Hey baby come up to
my place, we'll listen to some
smooth music on the stereo, no thank you
got any Stan Getz records
no I got Smothers Brothers
so I combed back my Detroit
jack up my pegs, wiped my Stacy Adams
jacknifed my legs, yea I got designs
on a moving violation
hey baby, you put me on hold and I'm
out in the wind and it's getting
mighty cold...
colder than a gut shot bitch wolf dog
with 9 sucking pups pullin' a 4 trap
up a hill in the dead of winter
in the middle of a snowstorm
with a mouth full of porcupine quills

(scat)

yea well I don't need you baby
It's a well known fact
I'm 4 sheets to the wind
I'm glad you're gone
I'm glad you're gone
I'm finally alone
glad you're gone, but I
wish you'd come home
and I struggled out of bed
cause the dawn was crackin' hard like a bullwhip
cause it wasn't takin' no lip from the night before
as it shook out the streets the stew bums
showed up just like bounced checks
rubbin' their necks, and the sky turned the
color of Pepto-Bismol
and my old sports coat full of promissory notes
and the hawk had his whole family out there
in the wind, he got a message for you to beware
kickin' your ass in, in a cold blooded fashion
he be dishin' out more than a good man can bear
well hey baby let's take it to Bakersfield
get a little apartment somewhere