It’s nine o’clock on a Saturday
The regular shift shuffles in
There’s an old man sittin’ next to me
Makin’ love to his mustache and chin
He says, “Son can you get me a coffee?
I’m not really sure how it goes
But it’s sad and it’s sweet and I knew it complete
When I wore a younger man’s bunker gear”
La, la-la, di-di-da
La-la di-di-da da-dum
Get us a coffee, you’re the probie man
Get us a coffee tonight
Well, we’re all in the mood for some caffeine
And you’ve got us feelin’ kinda weird
Now John at the bar is a nozzleman
He gets angry with me for free
And he’s quick with a joke, or to throw a water at you
But there’s some door that he’d rather be going through
He says, “Bill, I believe this is killing me”
As a smile ran away from his face
“Well, I’m sure that I could be a truckie
If I could get out of this place”
Oh, la, la-la, di-di-da
La-la di-di-da da-dum
