At the Hollow Eye Diner there's a waitress pouring coffee 
  for anyone who'd care to have a sip.
There's a slice of apple pie on the lazy susan tray 
  that's yours for a buck-fifty and a tip.
The tired ex-marine cook would rather be sleeping 
  but he's saving up his money for a trip.
He's gonna go to Timbuktu and become a monk-in-waiting 
  just as soon as he's got passage on a ship.
See; he's afraid of flying since he had a bad experience 
  with a jet restroom sink and his lower lip.
Me; I just can't sleep tonight and I've got no appetite 
  for a ham and swiss on rye and a bag of chips.
Lonely in a jam-packed city at three A.M. 
  all because I'm missing the curve of 
  one 
  particular 
  hip.