I work at the restaurant br and tie my hands with my shoe laces br there's no need to retrace all the steps br I have taken to find myself standing here washing dishes br over this sink br br I work at the restaurant br and don't leave till the sun goes down br I hang my rags to dry br wish the patient counter girls goodnight br and make my way home back thru town br br Around 6 I stand at the window br and watch the sky wait behind the Mountains br watch all the cars and people go by shoutin' br Now whose bread m'I supposed to butter anyway? br br Maybe if I stare into the sun long enough br I can project absorbing light br br Bridget wipes crumbs from the table br with a blue wet rag br smiles and asks, 'what you doing? ' br br Oh, nothing.