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Papaver
Madmin Emeritus?
Registered: 06/01/02
Posts: 26,880
Loc: Radio Free Tibet!
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Eggs and Sausage (plus spoken word intro)!
#1379555 - 03/15/03 11:09 PM (21 years, 18 days ago) |
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"I was always eh, kinda want to like consider myself kind of a pioneer of the palette, a restaurateur if you will. I?ve wined, dined, sipped and supped in some of the most demonstrably beamer epitomable bistros in the Los Angles metropolitan region. Yeah, I?ve had strange looking patty melts at Norms. I?ve had dangerous veal cutlets at the Copper Penny. Well what you get is a breaded salsbury steak in a shake-n-bake and topped with a provocative sauce of Velveeta and uh, half-n-half. Smothered with Campbell?s tomato soup. See I have kinda of a uh...well I order my veal cutlet, Christ it left the plate and it walked down to the end of the counter. Waitress? Well she?s wearing those rhinestone glasses with the little pearl thing clipped on the sweater. My veal cutlet come down, tried to beat the shit out of my cup of coffee. Coffee just wasn?t strong enough to defend itself!" Eggs And Sausage (In a Cadillac With Susan Michelson) Tom Waits 1975 Nighthawks at the diner Emma?s 49er There?s a rendezvous of strangers Around the coffee urn tonight All the gypsy hacks and the insomniacs Now the paper?s been read Now the waitress said Eggs and sausage and a side of toast Coffee and a roll, hash browns over easy Chile in a bowl with burgers and fries What kind of pie? It?s a graveyard charade it?s a late shift masquerade And it?s 2 for a quarter, dime for a dance Woolworth rhinestone diamond earrings and a sideway?s glance Now the register rings Now the waitress sings Eggs and sausage and a side of toast Coffee and a roll, hash browns over easy Chile in a bowl with burgers and fries What kind of pie? The classified section offers no direction It?s a cold caffeine in a nicotine cloud Now the touch of your fingers Lingers burning in my memory I?ve been 86ed from your scheme Now I?m in a melodramatic nocturnal scene Now I?m a refugee from a disconcerted affair Now the lead pipe morning fall Now the waitress call Eggs and sausage, now a side of toast Coffee and a roll, hash browns over easy Chile in a bowl with burgers and fries And now what kind of pie? ? if you will Just come in and join the crowd Have some time to kill See I just come in to join the crowd Have some time to kill Just come in to join the crowd Cause I have some time to kill
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Edited by papaver (03/15/03 11:11 PM)
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Papaver
Madmin Emeritus?
Registered: 06/01/02
Posts: 26,880
Loc: Radio Free Tibet!
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Re: Eggs and Sausage (plus spoken word intro)! [Re: Papaver]
#1379563 - 03/15/03 11:19 PM (21 years, 18 days ago) |
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Nighthawk Postcards (From Easy Street) Tom Waits 1975
Goodness gracious...my bass player should be chained up somewhere I wanna take you on a kind of inebriational travelogue here Well, ain't got no spare, you ain't got no jack, you don't give a shit you ain't never coming back Maybe your standing on the corner of 17th and Wazee Streets, yeah Out in front of the Terminal bar there's a Thunderbird moving in muscatel sky You've been drinking cleaning products all night Open for suggestions It's a kinda about eh...well it's kinda about going down to the corner and say 'Well I'm just going down to the corner to get a pack of cigarettes I'll be back in a minute' Yeah, check out the street and it looks likes kinda of a... kinda of a blur drizzle down the plateglass And there's a neon swizzle stick stirring up the sultry night air Looks like a yellow biscuit of a buttery cue ball moon Rollin' maverick across an obsidian sky As the busses go groanin' and wheezin', Down on the corner I'm freezing On a restless boulevard in a midnight road I'm across town from EASY STREET With the tight knots of moviegoers and out of towners on the stroll The buildings towering high above Lit like dominoes or black dice Used car salesmen dressed up in Purina Checkerboard slacks And Foster Grant wrap-around Pacing in front of rainbow EARL SCHLEIB $39.95 merchandise Like barkers at a shooting gallery They throw out kind of a Texas Guinan routine "Hello sucker, we like your money just as well as anybody else's here Come on over here now Let me put the cut back in your strut and the glid back in your slide Now climb aboard a custom Oldmobile and let me take you for a ride" Or they give you the P.T. Barnum bit "There's a sucker born every minute you just happened to be comin' along at the right time you know come over here" Well you know, all the harlequin sailors are on the stroll In a search of "LIKE NEW," "NEW PAINT," And decent factory air and AM-FM dreams And all the piss yellow gypsy cabs That stack up in the taxi zones and the're waiting like pinball machines To be ticking off a joy ride to a magical place Like truckers welcome diners With dirt lots full of Peterbilts and Kenworths and Jimmy's and the like They're hiballin' with bankrupt brakes Man, the're over driven and the're under paid The're over fed and the're a day late and a dollar short Christ I got my lips around a bottle and I got my foot on the throttle And I'm standing on the corner Standing on the corner like a "just in town" jasper I'm on a street corner with a gasper Looking for some kind of Cheshire billboard grin Stroking a goateed chin, using parking meters as walking sticks On the inebriated stroll With my eyelids propped open at half mast
But you know over at Chubb's Pool Hall and Snooker Well it was a nickle after two, yea it was a nickle after two And in the cobalt steel blue dream smoke Why it was the radio that groaned out the hit parade And the chalk squeaked and the floorboards creaked And an Olympia sign winked through a torn yellow shade Old Jack Chance himself leaning up against a Wurlitzer And he was eyeballing out a 5 ball combination shot Impossible you say? Hard to believe? Perhaps out of the realm of possibility? Nah Cause he'll be stretchin' out long tawny fingers Out across a cool green felt in a provocative golden gate He got a full table railshot that's no sweat And I leaned up against my bannister And wandered over to the Wurlitzer and I punched A-2 I was lookin' for maybe 'Wine, Wine, Wine' by the Night Caps Starring Chuck E. Weiss or maybe... Maybe a little something called 'High Blood Pressure' By George 'cryin' in the streets' Perkins, no dice "Cause that's life," that's what all the people say Your riding high in April, seriously shot down in May But I know I'm gonna change that tune When I'm standing underneath a buttery moon That's all melted off to one side
It was just about that time that the sun came crawlin' yellow out of a manhole At the foot of 23rd Street and a dracula moon in a black disguise Was making its way back to its pre-paid room at the St. Moritz Hotel (scat) The El train tumbled across the trestles And it sounded like the ghost of Gene Krupa With an overhead cam and glasspacks And the whispering brushes of wet radials on wet pavement With a traffic jam session on Belmont tonight And the rhapsody of the pending evening I leaned up against my bannister And I've been looking for some kind of an emotional investment With romantic dividends, yeah kind of a physical negotiation is underway Well, as I attempt to consolidate all my missed weekly rendezvous Into one-low-monthly payment, through the nose, yeah With romantic residuals and legs akimbo But the chances are that more than likely Standing underneath a moon holding water I'll probably be held over for another smashed weekend
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40oz
Registered: 01/18/01
Posts: 30,119
Loc: Sandy Eggo. Ca.
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Re: Eggs and Sausage (plus spoken word intro)! [Re: Papaver]
#1379581 - 03/15/03 11:34 PM (21 years, 18 days ago) |
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i wish i could say i read all that...but i cant comprhend full paragraugps at the presnet momet...
so ill say "that was cool" instead and act like i read it...
-------------------- - - - - tiny_rabid_birds said: "your avatar is dirty."
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Papaver
Madmin Emeritus?
Registered: 06/01/02
Posts: 26,880
Loc: Radio Free Tibet!
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Re: Eggs and Sausage (plus spoken word intro)! [Re: Papaver]
#1379588 - 03/15/03 11:41 PM (21 years, 18 days ago) |
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Moved from OTD to the Pub, where the attention spans are longer...
Spare Parts I (A Nocturnal Emission) Tom Waits/Chuck E. Weiss 1975
Well the dawn cracked hard just like a bull whip Cause it wasn't takin' no lip from the night before And it shook out the street as the stew bums showed up Just like bounced checks, rubbin' their necks And the sky turned the color of Pepto-Bismol Yeah and the parking lots growled My old sports coat full of promissory notes And a receipt from a late night motel The hawk had his whole family out there in the wind And he got a message for you to beware Kicking your ass in, in a cold blooded fashion Dishing out more than a good man can bear
And I got shoes untied, my shirt tail's out Ain't got a ghost of a chance with this old romance Just an apartment for rent down the block Ivar Theater with live burlesque Man, the manager's scowlin' with his feet on his desk Boom boom against the curtain, you're still hurtin' And then push came to shove and shove came to biff Girls like that just lay you out stiff Maybe I'll go to Cleveland or, you know, get me a tattoo or something My brother-in-law lives there
And it's a skid mark tattoo on the asphalt blue Was that a Malibu? Yeah, Liz Taylor and Montgomery Clift coming on to the broads with the same ol' riff, yeah 'Hey baby, why don't you come up to my place We'll listen to some smooth music on the stereo' 'No thank you', she said 'Got any Stan Getz records?' 'No man, I got eh Smothers Brothers'
So I combed back my Detroit, Jacked up my pegs I wiped my Stacy Adams and I jacknifed my legs Yeah I got designs on a moving violation Yeah baby, you put me on hold and I'm out in the wind And it's getting mighty cold It's colder than a gut shot bitch wolf dog With 9 sucking pups pulling a number 4 trap up a hill In the dead of winter in the middle of a snowstorm With a mouth full of porcupine quills
[Note: I love that part! ]
(scat)
Well I don't need you baby, you see it's a well known fact, you know I'm 4 sheets to the wind, I'm glad you're gone I'm glad you're gone cause I'm finally alone Glad you're gone, but I wish you'd come home, yeah And I struggled out of bed Cause the dawn was crackin' hard just like a bullwhip And it wasn't takin' no lip from the night before As it shook out the streets The stew bums showed up just like bounced checks Rubbin' their necks and the sky turned the color of Pepto-Bismol And my old sports coat full of promissory notes And the hawk had his whole family out there in the wind He got a message for you to beware Kickin' your ass in, in a cold blooded fashion He be dishing out more than a good man can bear Well let's take it to Bakersfield get a little apartment somewhere
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Papaver
Madmin Emeritus?
Registered: 06/01/02
Posts: 26,880
Loc: Radio Free Tibet!
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Re: Eggs and Sausage (plus spoken word intro)! [Re: Papaver]
#1380845 - 03/16/03 10:21 AM (21 years, 18 days ago) |
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Sorry, but I've been spending the past few days in kind of a drunken, alcohol soaked, Tom Waits fog... It's always a nice place to visit...
PS: I'm also listening to a lot of Coletrane, Parker, et al, and even some old Kerouac readings. I'm just a '40s and '50s kinda guy...
Small Change (Got Rained on with His Own .38) Tom Waits
Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight, And nobody flinched down by the arcade And the marquees weren't weeping, they went stark-raving mad, And the cabbies were the only ones that really had it made And his cold trousers were twisted, and the sirens high and shrill, And crumpled in his fist was a five-dollar bill And the naked mannequins with their Cheshire grins, And the raconteurs and roustabouts said "Buddy, come on in, 'cause 'Cause the dreams ain't broken down here now, they're walking with a limp Now that Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight" And nobody flinched down by the arcade And the burglar alarm's been disconnected, And the newsmen start to rattle And the cops are telling jokes about some whorehouse in Seattle And the fire hydrants plead the Fifth Amendment And the furniture is bargains galore But the blood is by the jukebox on an old linoleum floor And what a hot rain on Forty-Second Street, And now the umbrellas ain't got a chance And the newsboy's a lunatic with stains on his pants, 'cause 'Cause Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight And no one's gone over to close his eyes And there's a racing form in his pocket, Circled "Blue Boots" in the third And the cashier at the clothing store didn't say a word As the siren tears the night in half, and someone lost his wallet Well, a surveillance of assailance, it that's what you want to call it And the whores hike up their skirts and fish for drug-store prophylactics With their mouths cut just like razor blades and their eyes are like stilettos And her radiator's steaming and her teeth are in a wreck, and nah, She won't let you kiss her, but what the hell do you expect? And the Gypsies are tragic and if you want to buy perfume, Well, they'll bark you down like carneys, sell you Christmas cards in June, but But Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight And his headstone's a gumball machine, No more chewing gum or baseball cards or overcoats or dreams Someone's hosing down the sidewalk, and he's only in his teens, 'cause 'Cause Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight And a fistful of dollars can't change that, And someone copped his watch fob, and someone got his ring And the newsboy got his porkpie Stetson hat And the tuberculosis old men at the Nelson wheeze and cough And someone will head south until this whole thing cools off, 'cause 'Cause Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight, yeah, Small Change got rained on with his own thirty-eight
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