Holly Cole Follow

Well she's up against the register with an apron and a spatula
Yesterday's deliveries, the tickets for the bachelors
She's a moving violation from her conk down to her shoes

She says, ‽How you gonna like 'em, over medium or scrambled?”
Anyways the only way, be careful not to gamble
On a guy with a suitcase and a ticket getting out of here
A tired bus station, old pair of shoes
This nothing but an invitation to the blues

You can't take your eyes off her, get another cup of java
It's just the way she pours it for you, joking with the customers
Mercy mercy, Mr. Percy, there's nothing back in Jersey
But a broken-down jalopy and a dream I was chasing
A battle with the booze, an open invitation to the blues

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 never loved her 'cept at night
And then he's drunk and he never even told her that he cared
So they took the registration, her car-keys and her shoes
And left her with an invitation to the blues

There's a Continental Trailways leaving local bus tonight, good evening
You can have my seat, I'm sticking round here for a while
Get me a room at the Squire, where the filling station's hiring
I can eat here every night, what the hell have I got to lose
Got a crazy sensation, go or stay I've gotta choose
I accept your invitation to the blues

Well she's up against the register with an apron and a spatula
Yesterday's deliveries, the tickets for the bachelors
She's a moving violation from her conk down to her shoes