Barangrill - Joni Mitchell

    Three waitresses all wearing
    Black diamond earrings
    Talking about zombies
    And Singapore slings
    No trouble in their faces
    Not one anxious voice
    None of the crazy you get
    From too much choice
    The thumb and the satchel
    Or the rented Rolls-Royce
    And you think she knows something
    By the second refill
    You think she's enlightened
    As she totals your bill
    You say "Show me the way
    To Barangrill"

    Well some say it's in service
    They say "Humble Makes Pure"
    You're hoping it's near Folly
    'Cause you're headed that way for sure
    And you just have to laugh
    'Cause it's all so crazy
    Ah, her mind's on her boyfriend
    And eggs over easy
    It's just a trick on you
    Her mirrors and your will
    So you ask the truck driver
    On the way to the till
    But he's just a slave
    To Barangrill

    The guy at the gaspumps
    He's got a lot of soul
    He sings Merry Christmas for you
    Just like Nat King Cole
    And he makes up his own tune
    Right on the spot
    About whitewalls and windshields
    And this job he's got
    And you want to get moving
    And you want to stay still
    But lost in the moment
    Some longing gets filled
    And you even forget to ask
    "Hey, Where's Barangrill?"

    Marco Giunco
    Work Basket Music Words