nighthawks at the diner of Emma's 49er there's a rendezvous of strangers around the coffee urn tonight all the gypsy hacks 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? In a graveyard charade a late shift masquerade 2 for a quarter dime for a dance with Woolworth rhinestone diamond earrings and a sideway's glance and now the register rings and now the waitress sings the classified section offered 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 I'm in a melodramatic nocturnal scene I'm a refugee from a disconcerted affair as the lead pipe morning falls and the waitress calls 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?