Ghosts Of Saturday Night
Tom Waits
Eb
(início)
Bb7 Eb9 A cab combs the snake, Bb7 Eb9 Tryin' to rake in that last night's fare, Bb7 And a solitary sailor Am7 D7 Who spends the facts of his life like small change on strangers... Bb7 Eb9 Paws his inside P-coat pocket for a welcome twenty-five cents, Bb7 Eb9 And the last bent butt from a package of Kents, Bb7 As he dreams of a waitress with Maxwell House eyes Am7 D7 And marmalade thighs with scrambled yellow hair. Bb7 Eb9 Her rhinestone-studded moniker says, "Irene" Bb7 Eb9 Bb7 As she wipes the wisps of dishwater blonde from her eyes Am7 D7 Bb7 Eb9 And the Texaco beacon burns on, Bb7 Eb9 Bb7 The steel-belted attendant with a 'Ring and Valve Special'... Am7 Cryin' "Fill'er up and check that oil" D7 "You know it could be a distributor and it could be a coil." Bb7 Eb9 The early mornin' final edition's on the stands, Bb7 Eb9 And that town cryer's cryin' there with nickels in his hands. Bb7 Am7 D7 Pigs in a blanket sixty-nine cents, Bb7 Eb9 Eggs - roll 'em over and a package of Kents, Bb7 Eb9 Bb7 Adam and Eve on a log, you can sink 'em damn straight, Am7 D7 Hash browns, hash browns, you know I can't be late. Bb7 Eb9 And the early dawn cracks out a carpet of diamond Bb7 Eb9 Across a cash crop car lot filled with twilight Coupe Devilles, Am7 Leaving the town in a-keeping D7 Of the one who is sweeping Bb7 Eb9 Outro Up the ghost of Saturday night...
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