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Shop: Myyco.com Golden Teacher Liquid Culture For Sale   Unfolding Nature Unfolding Nature: Being in the Implicate Order

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Eggs and Sausage (plus spoken word intro)!
    #1379555 -

"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 (03/16/03 01:11 AM)

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Re: Eggs and Sausage (plus spoken word intro)! [Re: Papaver]
    #1379563 -

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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Re: Eggs and Sausage (plus spoken word intro)! [Re: Papaver]
    #1379581 -

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... :smirk:


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:pacman: - - - -  :pill: :mushroom2: :pill2: :mushroom2: :regularshroom: :mushroomgrow: :pill: :pill2: :mushroom2: :poison:

:sun::heart::sun:

tiny_rabid_birds said:
"your avatar is dirty."

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Re: Eggs and Sausage (plus spoken word intro)! [Re: Papaver]
    #1379588 -

Moved from OTD to the Pub, where the attention spans are longer... :grin:

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! :cool:]

(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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Re: Eggs and Sausage (plus spoken word intro)! [Re: Papaver]
    #1380845 -

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... :cool:

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... :shrug:

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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