Original subtitles

Well, let's hope we get the register, the neighborhood and the spatula.

Yesterday's delivery,

the tickets for the bachelor.

She's a moving violation from her conks down to her shoes.

Well, it's just an invitation to the blues.

And you feel just like Cagney. Looks like Rita

Haywood. The counter of the Schwab's drugstore.

You wonder if she might be single.

She's alone at Las Amigos.

Got to be. Be patient and pick up a clue.

She said, how are you going to like them?

Medium or scrambled?

He said, anyway, it's the only way.

Be careful not to gamble on a car with a suitcase and

a ticket getting out of here.

In a tired bus station in an old pair of shoes.

Cause it ain't nothing but an invitation to the blues.

But you can take your eyes off her. Get another cup of

tarver.

It's just the way she pours it for you. Joking with the customers.

Mercy, mercy, Mr.

Percy. There ain't nothing back in Jersey but a broken down

jalopy of a man I left behind.

And a dream that I was chasing.

A battle with booze.

And an open invitation to the blues.

But you used to have a sugar daddy.

And a candy apple caddy. And a bank account and everything.

Accustomed to the finer things.

He probably left her for a socialite.

And he didn't love herself tonight.

And then he's drunk and never even told her that he cared.

So they took the registration.

Car keys and his shoes.

Left to win every day down to the blues.

There's a continental trail that's leaving the local bus tonight.

Good evening. You can have my seat. I'm sticking around here for a while.

Give me a room at the Squire.

A fill and stations hiring.

And I can eat here every night. What the hell have I got to lose?

God.

Go with the day and I gotta choose.

Not accept your invitation to the blues.