Scattered, Smothered & Gone

Yeah…

Friday night, neon lights…

Waffle House smellin’ like destiny, baby.

I walked in sober-ish…

Walked out Sunday baptized in syrup.

⸻

Pulled up late, bout quarter to ten,

Buddy said “one tab,” I said “bet then,”

Next thing I know the jukebox breathin’,

Hashbrowns winked at me for no damn reason.

Cook named Earl got a cigarette grin,

Flippin’ eggs like a WWE spin,

Waitress asked “baby, what you need?”

I said “Ma’am… why the waffles got teeth?”

Coffee cup started melting sideways,

Booth looked longer than a Texas highway,

Bathroom code felt like ancient math,

I cried cause the soap dispenser laughed.

⸻

Trippin’ balls at the Waffle House, Friday night gone wrong,

By Saturday afternoon we still singin’ the same damn song,

Covered in syrup, smellin’ like smoke,

One dude asleep with a fork in his coat.

Scattered, smothered, covered my soul,

Time stopped movin’, lost all control,

Walked in hungry, left spiritually torn,

Didn’t leave that Waffle House till Sunday morn’.

⸻

3 AM, somebody fightin’ outside,

Lady threw a chair like she qualified,

Cook never blinked, just kept makin’ toast,

Like violence there was normal most.

Buddy thought the ketchup bottle was God,

Started preachin’ to the parking lot,

I was in the corner fearin’ for my life,

Cause the jukebox played Nickelback twice.

Saw a biker dude petting the grill,

Said “these waffles know how I feel,”

Then a cop came in for bacon and tea,

Looked dead in my eyes and nodded at me.

⸻

Saturday faded into Sunday haze,

Couldn’t tell time through the syrupy glaze,

Sun came up then went back down,

Still hearin’ plates make alien sounds.

Waitress said “y’all okay?”

We said “physically? maybe.”

Mentally? absolutely not.

⸻

Trippin’ balls at the Waffle House, Friday night gone wrong,

By Saturday afternoon we still singin’ the same damn song,

Covered in syrup, smellin’ like smoke,

One dude asleep with a fork in his coat.

Scattered, smothered, covered my soul,

Time stopped movin’, lost all control,

Walked in hungry, left spiritually torn,

Didn’t leave that Waffle House till Sunday morn’.

⸻

Now every time I smell burnt toast,

I see ghost waffles floatin’ close,

And somewhere Earl still crackin’ eggs,

While my buddy argues with table legs.

Waffle House…

Never closes.

And apparently neither did our trip.