It's two in the mornin' on Saturday night   At Rosalie's Good Eats Café   The onions are fryin', the neon is bright   And the jukebox is startin' to play   And the sign on the wall says, IN GOD WE TRUST,   ALL OTHERS HAVE TO PAY   And it's two in the mornin' on Saturday night   At Rosalie's Good Eats Café      The short-order cook with the MOMMA tattoo   He's a'turnin' them hamburgers slow   "Eggs over easy, whole wheat down,   D' y'all want that coffee to go?"   He never once dreamed as a rodeo star   That he'd wind up here today   At two in the mornin' on Saturday night   At Rosalie's Good Eats Café      There's a tall, skinny girl in the booth in the back   Wearin' jeans and a secondhand fur   She's been to the doctor, then called up a man   And now wonders just where she can turn   She stares at her coffee, then looks toward the ceiling   But, Lord, it's a strange place to pray   At two in the mornin' on Saturday night   At Rosalie's Good Eats Café      There's a guy in a tux and he stands in the corner   Feedin' the jukebox his dimes   He just had a woman and thought that he'd bought her   But found he'd just rented some time   And he couldn't sleep, so he come back to see   If anyone else wants to play   At two in the mornin' on Saturday night   At Rosalie's Good Eats Café      There's an old dollar bill in a frame on the wall   The first one that Rose ever made   It was once worth a dollar a long time ago   But, like Rose, it's beginnin' to fade   She's back of the register, dreamin' of someone   And how things'd be if he'd stayed   But it's two in the mornin' on Saturday night   At Rosalie's Good Eats Café      The stoop-shouldered man and his frizzy-haired woman   It's strange how their eyes never meet   He's playin' the pinball, she's fixin' the blanket   Of the baby asleep on the seat   And he's out of work and she's puttin' on weight   And, hell, they never did had too much to say   And it's two in the mornin' on Saturday night   At Rosalie's Good Eats Café      The waitress Darlene, she sits at the counter   Paintin' her fingernails blue   And the short-order cook, he yells, "Move it or lose it   And pick up an order of stew."   But someday a rich, handsome man will walk in   And carry her far, far away   From two in the mornin' on Saturday night   At Rosalie's Good Eats Café      The shaggy-haired hippie, he's finished his meal   And he's countin' the change in his jeans   Burger and coffee are 85 cents   And he's only got 23   He smiles at Rose and she winks back at him   But, Lord, that's a high price to pay   At two in the mornin' on Saturday night   At Rosalie's Good Eats Café      The baby-faced sailor, he leans on the phone   And dials the number again   While the guy in the tux tells the girl in the jeans   'Bout the wonderful places he's been   Then the wino comes in off the street and starts shoutin'   'Bout fortunes that he threw away   And Rosalie's askin' the shaggy-haired hippie   If he's got a warm place to stay   And the short-order cook takes a five from the till   While Rosalie's lookin' away   And the onions keep fryin', the neon is bright   And the jukebox continues to play   And it's two in the mornin' on Saturday night   At Rosalie's Good Eats Café.