Highway Cafe

                D
  Well she was only a waitress in a 
highway cafe
                                 A
  Poured coffee from dusk until dawn
              A
  But she's heartbroken twenty-four 
hours a day
  For she longed for a trucker who'd
  D
 gone

            D                      
  Will you make it a corned beef on
 rye, He'd sing with a gleam in his 
 A
eye
           A                       
  Oh the headlights were burnin',  
         G
And the big wheels were turnin'
          G             A          
  Her sweetheart would come by and 
D
by

        D
  He'd park his great semi off route
 64
  She'd rush with a sweet little 
 A
sigh
          A
  For at half past eleven, He'd walk
 in the door
                              D
  And order a corned beef on rye

            D                      
  Will you make it a corned beef on
 rye, He'd sing with a gleam in her 
A
eye
            A                    
  Oh the jukebox was blarin'  An' 
      G
her soft eyes were starin'
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            G                A    
  And the corned beef would come 
      D
by and by

             D
  All the drivers remember that 
night so they say
  She'd said her farewells to them 
 A
all
                A
  Ah when the hands on the clock 
reached a quarter past twelve
  Her suitcase still stood in the 
 D
hall


(Spoken)   D
  And the hours they passed by, Even
 as the trucks passed by on the 
highway
  And two grim highway patrolmen 
                A
came into the place

  And they shook the rain from their
 hats

  And as the poor girl brought 'em 
their coffee
  These are the words that that they
   D
 said
         D
  'Hey Curley, you see that old 
diesel flattened out like your
  damned nose up by the predicament 
          A
tonight?'
              A
  'Hell, He jack-knifed that son of 
a bitch slicker 'n' owl shit'
  'I'll have a chilli dog over here 
       D
baby'
                      D
  'Hell, you don't suppose he had 
him a little hog
  Way on down the line someplace, Do
        A
 ya?'
                              A
  'Hey now Curley, Don't you know 
them damn truckers
  They got a little filly in every 
cafe from here to Los Cruces' 
D
Ha-ha-ha-ha

            D
  Now there is a small truck-stop 
off route 64
                              A
  If you happen to be passin' by
              A
  There's a trucker that never stops
 in anymore
  There's a waitress that wished she
       D
 knew why

      D                            
  Oh make it a corned beef on rye, 
                               A
She'd sing with a tear in her eye
           A                       
  And her dark eyes are glistenin' 
       G
And someone is listenin'
            G      A           D
  In that highway cafe in the sky   
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