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
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