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
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
The song depicts the late night, early morning observations from a customer at one of those 24 hour small diners. Suited well for the "all nighters" as a refuge for coffee, and something to eat. I was one of those back in the "day." Having spent all of the day carousing the afternoon looking for excitement, staying high, and just wandering from here to there visiting friends who shared your lifestyle you end up still awake as you have slept past noon that day. The song points out the details of the all night diner through the eyes of a still-lonely person pointing out the shabbiness of the diner and it's patrons and a particular waitress. A place for those who just don't fit into the daily mainstream.