Clowning (Ain't No Way to Make a Living)
Clowning ain't no way to make a living
Diner lot
Allegheny sleet
Halite crunch under feet
Lean on me, watch that step
Don't rebreak it, shuffle gait it
Thru the tailpipe cloud of a spring-sagged Savana
Sickly idle, fogged up glass
Mind your business, eyes on ice
Here again in the gentle night
Door chimes say welcome, seat yourself
We crawl to a corner booth more niche than nook
Coffee? Yes, please
Yesterday's paper folded on the table
And tomorrow's yet to press
You have so few tomorrows
And such uneasy yesterdays
The coffee is good
Careful, let it cool
Let me wipe that spill
Let us check the crossword, maybe it's undone
The door chimes again, I look up
See three rough men and a jumpsuited clown
Fully kitted, rainbow wig to jumbo shoes
To the other corner they descend
(Y'know, I'm a big fan of playing pretend)
The rough men order eggs and they get the clown a waffle
The rough men tickle and they tease and they bait the clown
And when the server brings the food
The clown sobs and drags his ruffled sleeves through the syrup dish
In my booth my companion is asleep
Castrated brain locked in a mosaic maze
Across the room, the clown slips from the rough men
And flops to the restroom
The men laugh and eat the clown's waffle
The server glides to the men
Coffee pot in hand, distraction in mind
I squeeze my companion's hand and leave him there softly breathing
And make for the restroom and there is the clown
Double my years and well out of warranty
He zips up his jumpsuit and I stupidly shrug
And ask if things are cool? Are they cool?
The clown rubs his gums, he fixes his wig, steps past me
But suddenly he bends back and twists close
And his frilly jabot brushes my cheek
And in my head his voice tickles deep and he tells me
Clowning ain't no way to make a living
Clowning ain't no way to make a living
Clowning ain't no way to make a living
Diner lot
Allegheny sleet
Halite crunch under feet
Lean on me, watch that step
Don't rebreak it, shuffle gait it
Thru the tailpipe cloud of a spring-sagged Savana
Sickly idle, fogged up glass
Mind your business, eyes on ice
Here again in the gentle night
Door chimes say welcome, seat yourself
We crawl to a corner booth more niche than nook
Coffee? Yes, please
Yesterday's paper folded on the table
And tomorrow's yet to press
You have so few tomorrows
And such uneasy yesterdays
The coffee is good
Careful, let it cool
Let me wipe that spill
Let us check the crossword, maybe it's undone
The door chimes again, I look up
See three rough men and a jumpsuited clown
Fully kitted, rainbow wig to jumbo shoes
To the other corner they descend
(Y'know, I'm a big fan of playing pretend)
The rough men order eggs and they get the clown a waffle
The rough men tickle and they tease and they bait the clown
And when the server brings the food
The clown sobs and drags his ruffled sleeves through the syrup dish
In my booth my companion is asleep
Castrated brain locked in a mosaic maze
Across the room, the clown slips from the rough men
And flops to the restroom
The men laugh and eat the clown's waffle
The server glides to the men
Coffee pot in hand, distraction in mind
I squeeze my companion's hand and leave him there softly breathing
And make for the restroom and there is the clown
Double my years and well out of warranty
He zips up his jumpsuit and I stupidly shrug
And ask if things are cool? Are they cool?
The clown rubs his gums, he fixes his wig, steps past me
But suddenly he bends back and twists close
And his frilly jabot brushes my cheek
And in my head his voice tickles deep and he tells me
Clowning ain't no way to make a living
Clowning ain't no way to make a living
Clowning ain't no way to make a living
Credits
Writer(s): Jonathan Dimarco
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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