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.