| He was a short order cook, and not too much to look at
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| And he traded in his foot, for a medal in the war
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| He loved a girl named Lila, in a bar across the highway
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| And you ought to see him smilin' at her comin' through the door
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| Lila always knew, she wasn’t no ravin' beauty
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| She traded in her virtue to a trucker at sixteen
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| But she forgets to remember how he left her off in Denver
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| When she sees her Cooky smilin' as she opens up the screen
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| And he says
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| «Hi Lila, how about a cup of coffee?
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| Take a load off, take your shoes off, here’s the sugar and the cream»
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| Cooky’s been to war and Lila’s been to Denver
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| And both of them are casualties of someone else’s dream
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| Cooky pours the trucker’s coffee, Lila serves the rigger’s whiskey
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| And resists their invitations to go ridin' for a while
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| 'Cause at a diner across the highway, on a shelf above the pastry
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| There’s a cup reserved for Lila and the man who makes her smile
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| When he says
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| «Hi Lila, how about a cup of coffee?
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| Take a load off, take your shoes off, here’s the sugar and the cream»
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| 'Cause Cooky’s been to war Lord and Lila’s been to Denver
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| And both of them are casualties of someone else’s dream
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| Now as the nation rolls along, like a semi down the highway
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| Casting lonely broken bodies in the grass along the road
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| I’ve finally found a reason for believing in the future
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| Seeing Cooky and his Lila drinking coffee all alone
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| Oh yes
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| «Hi Lila, how about a cup of coffee?
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| Take a load off, take your shoes off, here’s the sugar and the cream»
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| 'Cause Cooky’s been to war and Lila’s been to Denver
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| And both of them are casualties of someone else’s dream
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| Cooky’s been to war, Lord and Lila’s been to Denver
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| And both of them are casualties of someone else’s dream |