Hey, you're such a hard-arsed mother Delphine
As rough as a pit-stop, as cruel as a three-dime record machine
That played the same god-damn country song for decades to the next
Of the lost and the lonely who were hanging ribbons of tie-died hair
Part in the froth of a cheap chip coffee mug
Part in violation of the harvest moon
Yeah, there might have been hope once Delphine
In the beckoning finger of that cleavage
You wore it as a badge of solace saying
"Come here boy, sleep in the warm signpost of this destination"
But now you wear it as a weapon
It calls as loud as the coffee frother just hissing
"Keep you're distance honey-child
This is now the portcullis that separates you from me
And that's three bucks sweety-pie for the two coffees
I'm glad to see it's you and not me
That's halfway between St. Louis and nowhere
And all I've gotta say to you is pick up the tab little lamb
Thanks for the custom honey-child
I'm closing soon so just get out of my scene"
And oh God, the lorries are blinking out on the highway
And you're such a hard-arsed mother-f*cker Delphine
But I remember you Delphine when you were young
Dressed in that see-through negligee
I'd dined out on remnants of some cold french fries bathed in ketchup
And I thought I might call round for some hot coffee
And that's when I saw a tattooed butterfly encased in the depths of that cleavage
An evocation of life co-existing contentedly there in the darkness
Your soft hands wiped the sauce from my cheek
Your lips brushed the extremities of my frozen earlobe
And sashaying to the front door you threw bread to the birds
And then you asked me to leave
I see things are still the same Delphine
There's still heat in that flesh
But with a heart that's still mean
"God, you're such a hard-arsed mother-f*cker Delphine!"