saturday morning

i think i'll go get breakfast
in the middle of our town
little place called george's
good place to have around
maybe eggs over easy
maybe i'll have 'em poached
while i listen to my buddy ed
complain or tell a joke
the coffee's really good
the folks around are friendly
except for private clubbers
who sometimes drive a bently
so i'll get in my pick up truck
i'll drive a mile or so
maybe i'll get the rock star spot
it's the parking place of gold
i'll ease into the diner
i'll say hello hello to al
he's the aussie cashier there
who talks really really loud
i'll order me some breakfast
maybe i'll read the paper
'til ed comes in all smiling
what a mischief maker
he pinches all the waitresses
he complains about his eggs
he moons about his love life
how his buisness is in the dregs
he tells me great long stories
with his great big hands
he says "quickly" every time
he's the leader of the band
the dishes rattle everywhere
familys all chatter
while coffee's poured abundantly
it's really all that matters
so i leave here presently
after i brush my teeth
brush out my unnruly hair
for the strangers i might meet
so long and take it easy
try to stay in trouble
i am off to george's now
i guess i'll leave my stubble