Graveyard Cook
The short order cook is getting delirious at five in the morning
Beads of sweat showing under his funny hat
As he stares blankly at the eight new orders on the wheel,
And wonders when the drunks
Will all have enough and go home.
I’m one of the drunks
From a short order night
The band was hot
And the girls were swingin
But alas I finally walk out with no easy over lady.
And the waitress,
Scrambled yellow blond,
Takes my order
And adds it to the wheel.
More beads of sweat from the short order cook.
And he yells
“HERE’S YOUR ORDER STUPID”
to the scrambled yellow waitress.
“DON’T CALL ME STUPID!”
But she knows
He’ll give her
biscuits and gravy after it’s all over.
But in the meantime
It’s the drunks
On the other side of the counter
From this short order night
Eggs over easy
Pigs in a blanket
Hash browns and toast
Heartache and coffee
Yea, the short order cook plows on
And knows
That the nine orders on the wheel
Will not cook themselves.
He’s been on the other side too.
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