Joni Mitchell - Barangrill - Текст песни

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 
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?" 

© Joni Mitchell