Invitation to the blues
Well she's up against the register with an apron and a spatula,Yesterday's deliveries, tickets for the bachelorsShe's a moving violation from her conk down to her shoes,Well, it's just an invitation to the blues
And you feel just like Cagney, she looks like Rita HayworthAt the counter of the Schwab's drugstoreYou wonder if she might be single, she's a loner and likes to mingleGot to be patient, try and pick up a clue
She said "How you gonna like 'em, over medium or scrambled?",You say "Anyway's the only way", be careful not to gambleOn a guy with a suitcase and a ticket getting out of hereIt's a tired bus station and an old pair of shoesThis ain't nothing but an invitation to the blues
But you can't take your eyes off her, get another cup of java,It's just the way she pours it for you, joking with the customersMercy mercy, Mr. Percy, there ain't nothing back in JerseyBut a broken-down jalopy of a man I left behindAnd the dream that I was chasing, and a battle with boozeAnd an open invitation to the blues
But she used to have a sugar daddy and a candy-apple Caddy,And a bank account and everything, accustomed to the finer thingsHe probably left her for a socialite, and he didn't 'cept at night,And then he's drunk and never even told her that her caredSo they took the registration, and the car-keys and her shoesAnd left her with an invitation to the blues
'Cause there's a Continental Trailways leaving local bus tonight, good eveningYou can have my seat, I'm sticking round here for a whileGet me a room at the Squire, the filling station's hiring,And I can eat here every night, what the hell have I got to lose?Got a crazy sensation, go or stay? now I gotta choose,And I'll accept your invitation to the blues