NUMBER ONE OF SIL POEMS...
Waffle House Blues Well I try to pull in to a park that’s too thin As my fender finds a rednecks old cruise The concert is over, I need to get sober I got the Waffle House blues So I stumble on up to a hot coffee cup As my waitress has faded tattoos And the cook is a pickin’ at something thats sickenin’ I got the Waffle House blues Then I start to order from a gal with a goiter My date she’s starting to snooze My crumbled old pack houses one cigarette I got the Waffle House blues When the food... Sign in to see full entry.