Invitation To the Blues

She's up against the register
With an apron and a spatula
With yesterday's deliveries
And the tickets to the bachelors
She's a moving violation
From her cunt down to her shoes

But it's just an invitation to the blues

And you feel just like Cagney
Looks like Rita Hayworth
At the counter of a Schwab's drug store

You wonder if she might be single
She's a loner, likes to mingle
Gotta be patient and pick up a clue

She says, "How you gonna like 'em
Over medium or scrambled?
Any way's the only way
Be careful not to gamble
On a guy with a suitcase
And a ticket getting out of here
It's a tired bus station
And an old pair of shoes

But it ain't nothing but an invitation to the blues"

You can take your eyes off her
Get another cup of java
It's just the way she pours it for you
Joking with the customers
And it's "Mercy, Mr. Percy
There ain't nothing back in Jersey
But a broken down jalopy
Of a man I left behind
And a dream that I was chasing
And a battle with the booze

And an open invitation to the blues"

But she's had a sugar daddy
And a caddy-bugatti
And a bank account and everything
Accustomed to the finer things
He probably left her for a socialite
He didn't love her 'cept at night
And then he's drunk and never
Even told her that he cared
So they took the registration
And the car keys and her shoes

And left her with an invitation to the blues

But there's a Continental Trailways leaving
Local bus tonight, good evening
You can have my seat
I'm sticking around here for a while
Get me a room at the Squire
And the filling station's hiring
I can eat here every night
What the hell have I got to lose?
I got a crazy sensation
That we're staying, I've got to choose

And I'll accept your invitation to the blues