Waitress sets the tables, two and four and six
Laying placemats, knife, fork, spoon upon napkin
All the counter people, she knows us all by name
A counter people vision, everywhere we are the same
Oh and once everything starts to shift
Tip the weight that makes this whole thing give
Oh but I don't know where to put my hands
And the thought of silence makes me sick
Hey, I think it might be getting to me
Hey, I think it might be finally getting to me
Hey, I think it might be, finally getting to me
Hey, I think it might be, finally getting to me
All of the pretty people are out here
The women with their j**els and their long dangling earrings
And the men with one hand on the small of her back
The other casually with his thumb through the belt loop of his waistband
And so you line 'em up
A single cell and another one gone
Ostracon vase with your name on the line
And so you line 'em up
A single cell and another one gone
Ostracon vase with your name on the line
Hey, I think it might be getting to me
Hey, I think it might be finally getting to me
Hey, I think it might be, finally getting to me
Hey, I think it might be, finally getting to me