Not far from here at the corner of Wellesley and Bay
Was a restaurant known as The Falcon.
You may have seen it before? The small sign above the door?
Right next to the old place called Sutton.
Well it wasn't a restaurant but more like a diner
Well, not even a diner or fast food
The service was fast but the repartee faster
It was the neighborhood greasy spoon.
I was born with a greasy spoon in my mouth
And frankly I couldn't be prouder.
The larceny, the characters, the dimes and the clatter.
Made me smile for years after the ball wrecker.
I started out washing dishes, tripping over the apron
Peeling potatoes in the cellar til age ten,
No name, God forbid, I was known as Jim's kid
Served my first coffee at 12 and then...
That cup and saucer were rattling like the bones in my brains
My hands had the shakes of the palsy
My eyes were glued up to the rim of the cup
Trying to master the Zen of the coffee.
Did you leave any coffee in the cup? He said loudly,
My heart sank like a mouse in a trap
But I started at him straight, pulled my chequebook up tight
The next one will be on your lap.
The rush hour at lunch was a thing to behold
The noise, the panic, the smells
The burgers, the fries, the swatting of flies
I said 'Hold the onion', she yells!
Daisy, the waitress was short but inordinately endowed
The aisles were quite narrow at best
I'd suck in my stomach my thoughts quite atomic
As her breasts torpedoed my chest.
The short order cook was a sweaty hairy fellow
He stunk of fish, and fries and B.O.
His greatest testing was our after lunch wrestling
The headlock, there are no words, but you know.
My mother would slink down the aisles like a runway
My father would frown 'Not so vampy!'
The mechanics would stare, as they pulled up a chair
She'd say, "Jimmy, they don't come in for the coffee."
It was 1956 when Elvis was king
The first mainframe computer was out.
I dabbed some more hair goo, on my ducktail tornado hairdo
I was born with a greasy spoon in my mouth.