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Invitation to the blues

par Tom Waits
Well she´s up against the register with an apron and a spatula,
Yesterday´s deliveries, tickets for the bachelors
She´s a moving violation from her conk down to her shoes,
Well, it´s just an invitation to the blues

And you feel just like Cagney, she looks like Rita Hayworth
At the counter of the Schwab´s drugstore
You wonder if she might be single, she´s a loner and likes to mingle
Got to be patient, try and pick up a clue

She said "How you gonna like ´em, over medium or scrambled?",
You say "Anyway´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
This ain´t nothing but an invitation to the blues

But 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 ain´t nothing back in Jersey
But a broken-down jalopy of a man I left behind
And the dream that I was chasing, and a battle with booze
And an open invitation to the blues

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

´Cause 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, the filling station´s hiring,
And I can eat here every night, what the hell have I got to lose?
Got a crazy sensation, go or stay? now I gotta choose,
And I´ll accept your invitation to the blues
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