Hmmm
I wait on tables here
Ain't quite how I planned it
Pay's not that great
But I do alright in tips
I took the job to get me by
When my husband left me stranded
I still don't know just
Where the hell he is
After dark
Six nights a week
I pull this apron snug
Glanced up at a dusty TV
Blaring local news
Then I'm everybody's best friend
Dealing coffee like a drug
The whole place smells
Like fries and diesel fuel
Every shift is different
And every shift's the same
Someone's driving to the Promised Land
Or they're running from the pain
It's mostly long-haul truckers,
Runaways and thieves
Everybody's got somewhere to go
They all stop here
On the way to Mexico
I still think about that gal
Who came from Tucumcari
Off to find her sister
That she just found out she has
And those young lovers
On the run
She wasn't old enough to marry
Then the cop showed up
With one really pissed off dad
Every shift is different
And every shift's the same
Someone's driving to the Promised Land
Or they're running from the pain
It's mostly long-haul truckers,
Runaways and thieves
Everybody's got somewhere to go
They all stop here
On the way to Mexico
With each passing of a season
I wonder if I'm stuck
Or maybe I'm waiting for a reason
Or a helping of good luck
It's mostly long-haul truckers,
Runaways and me
Maybe I'll head south again
Who knows
We all stop here
On our way to Mexico
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