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Miranda works the late night counter |
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In a joint called Betty's Diner |
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Chrome and checkered tablecloths |
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One steamy windowpane |
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She got the job that shaky fall |
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And after hours she'll write till dawn |
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With a nod and smile she serves them all |
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Here we are all in one place |
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The wants and wounds of the human race |
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Despair and hope sit face to face |
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When you come in from the cold |
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Let her fill your cup with something kind |
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Eggs and toast like bread and wine |
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She's heard it all so she don't mind |
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Arthur lets his earl gray steep |
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Since April it's been hard to sleep |
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You know they tried most everything |
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Yet it took her in the end |
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Kevin tests new saxophones |
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But swears he's leaving quality control |
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For the Chicago scene, or New Orleans |
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Where they still play righteous horns |
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Here we are all in one place |
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The wants and wounds of the human race |
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Despair and hope sit face to face |
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When you come in from the cold |
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Let her fill your cup with something kind |
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Eggs and toast like bread and wine |
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She's heard it all so she don't mind |
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Jack studies here after work |
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To get past high school he's the first |
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And his large hands seem just as comfortable |
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With a hammer or a pen |
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Emma leaned and kissed his cheek |
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And when she did his knees got weak |
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Miranda smiles at 'em and winks |
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Here we are all in one place |
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The wants and wounds of the human race |
|
Despair and hope sit face to face |
|
When you come in from the cold |
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Let her fill your cup with something kind |
|
Eggs and toast like bread and wine |
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She's heard it all so she don't mind |
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You never know who'll be your witness |
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You never know who grants forgiveness |
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Look to heaven or sit with us |
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Deidra bites her lip and frowns |
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She works the stop and go downtown |
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She's pretty good at the crossword page |
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And she paints her eyes blue black |
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Tristan comes along sometimes |
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Small for his age and he's barely five |
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But she loves him like a mama lion |
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Veda used to drink a lot |
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Almost lost it all before she stopped |
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Comes in at night with her friend Mike |
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Who runs the crisis line |
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Michael toured Saigon and back |
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Hair the color of smoke and ash |
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Their heads are bowed and hands are clasped |
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One more storm has passed |
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Here we are all in one place |
|
The wants and wounds of the human race |
|
Despair and hope sit face to face |
|
When you come in from the cold |
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Let her fill your cup with something kind |
|
Eggs and toast like bread and wine |
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She's heard it all so she don't mind |
