They Sat İn An Abandoned Luncheonette
Sipping İmaginary Cola And Drawing Faces İn The Tabletop Dust
His Voice Was Rusty From Years As A Sergeant On "This Man'S Army"
They Were Old And Crusty

She Was Twenty When The Diner Was A Baby
He Was The Dishwasher, Busy İn The Back, His Hands Covered With
Gravy
Hair Black And Wavy
Brilliantine Slick, A Pot - Cleaning Dandy,
He Was Young And Randy

Day To Day, To Day... Today
Then They Were Old, Their Lives Wasted Away
Month To Month, Year To Year
They All Run Together
Time Measured By The Peeling Of Paint On The Luncheonette Wall

They Sat Together İn The Empty Diner
Filled With Cracked China
Old News Was Blowing Across The Filthy Floor
And The Sign On The Door Read "This Way Out", That'S All İt Read
That'S All İt Said