| Same bleach, same steeze
|
| Same old blue jeans
|
| I wanna have breakfast with Lou
|
| Same face, same plate
|
| Same old good taste
|
| I wanna have breakfast with Lou
|
| See the sunrise light his lonesome face
|
| He takes a walk down to his favorite place
|
| He nods to the waitress
|
| Another sunday, honey alone
|
| And when the city gets loud
|
| He comes to cool it down with me
|
| Same lips, same kicks
|
| Same old leather zip
|
| I wanna have breakfast with Lou
|
| Same look, same walk
|
| Same old sleek talk
|
| I wanna have breakfast with Lou
|
| We sit down at the velvet booth in the back
|
| Lou orders his pancakes double stacked
|
| He starts the talking, he’s telling me
|
| All about his paradise
|
| He’s got a rock’n’roll heart
|
| And he’d tore it apart for me
|
| Same freaks, same creeps
|
| Same old dirty streets
|
| I wanna have breakfast with Lou
|
| Same dreams, same steeze
|
| Tell me what it all means
|
| I wanna have breakfast with Lou
|
| He speaks low when it’s loud around
|
| And takes advantage of that quiet sound
|
| I keep on wondering what he’s thinking about
|
| And while he’s talking to me
|
| And at the end of the seat
|
| Puts on his GGT
|
| Takes a look at me and leaves
|
| Dark shades, black suede
|
| Just another perfect day
|
| I wanna have breakfast with Lou
|
| White light, white heat
|
| Coney Island, back beat
|
| I wanna have breakfast with Lou |