Tekst
There's a place out on the highway 'cross the San Bernardino line
Where the truckers and the bikers gather every night at the same time
At seven the band comes in and locals dance the night away
At Sleepy Joe's Café
I drive on down from the big town, Friday when the clock strikes five
As the red sun sets in the ocean, I start to come alive
Summer girls in the parking lot slap on their makeup
And they flirt the night away
Sleepy Joe's Café
Joe came home in '45 and took out a G.I. loan
On a sleepy little spot an Army cook could call his own
He married May, the highway come in and they woke up to find
They were sitting on top of a pretty little gold mine
Saturday night, the lights are bright as the folks pour in from town
Joe keeps the blues playin', at the bar May lays the beers down
I come through the door and feel the workweek slip away
See you out on the floor and Monday morning's a million miles away
Sleepy Joe's Café
Sleepy Joe's Café
Sleepy Joe's Café