| The waitress is sliding down the wall
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| You can see her chest rise and fall
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| Her mascara runnin’thin
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| And the payphone is swinging against the wall
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| Don’t ask her 'bout the call
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| You know she only trying to begin again
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| And the manager is yelling
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| Something about her hair being in her face
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| Customer complainin'
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| But he really has no case
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| And the counterqueens don’t even lookup from their magazines
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| But oh and the waitress oh she stares straight ahead
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| Saying something she never said
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| And the waitress has them backing
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| Has them backing against the all til they white in the face
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| She got 'em going now oh them praying
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| But they never know of the role they play
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| And the manager is quiet as she fumbles with the drawer
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| No he said no he said
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| You will never get away with this
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| No she said
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| You will never get away with this
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| Cause today when the door opens
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| The rain slants in There’s water all over the floor
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| Busser waves to the meter maid
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| Who don’t waive back no more
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| We’re all searching for something
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| We’ll all find a place to stay
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| Though we may have next to nothing
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| Oh lord we’ll find a way |