Grease stains map the vinyl booth edges
Coffee rings stain the laminated menus
Fryer hum drowns the interstate pledge
Short-order codes crack like fractured venues
Rusted can catches pink green light
Dented spout holds the fractured night
Neon bleeds on the metal skin
Crossroads glow burns deep within
Pie case fogs with cherry steam rise
Regulars grunt in flannel disguise
Grill scrapes sharp at three seventeen
Egg orders fly like-a machine
Can sits tilted by pump three hose
Stormwater mixed with diesel morose
Moths kamikaze the buzzing sign
Light fractures sharp on the rusted line
Rusted can catches pink green light
Dented spout holds the fractured night
Neon bleeds on the metal skin
Crossroads glow burns deep within
Wipe the counter, flip the sign closed
Morning crew takes the heavy load
But the can still drinks the electric hue
Long after the last truck pulls through
Apron hangs on the hook by the door
Grease trapped deep in the fabric core
Outside the can keeps its silent vigil
Neon baptism on metal ritual
Rusted can catches pink green light
Dented spout holds the fractured night
Neon bleeds on the metal skin
Crossroads glow burns deep within
Rust drinks the glow, holds it tight
Dawn cracks the spell with pale white light