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Description
For the latest version, see The Waitress II.
As weird as this may sound, waitresses symbolize a portal to a new life. I have spent many a night eating alone in Manhattan, and the inspiration a waitress can create is comforting and often dimension-opening. Occasionally, a waitress appears at the end of my table with the sort of courage in her eyes that says she is not connected to any past, that she is full of intense curiosity and discovery and would be willing to throw everything out the window and start her life all over again. These moments open up avenues of feelings and musings I find liberating; as when a stranger suddenly becomes a potential soul-mate and you see yourself through different eyes.
I am just beginning a project I call "Archetypes," a series of songs that will be used in a cabaret setting that touch on modern archetypes. I thought "The Waitress" was worthy of representing that doorway to the new... opened to the lonely hearts of the world. That is why the waitress in my song doesn't use a pad to write down orders, she is able to memorize them and can come to the table with empty hands. I try and create a sense, in the first two choruses, of the vocals coming from the kitchen, or from deep inside the man's mind, something so distant that they aren't quite his own voice, as if he can't say it yet but can only imagine himself saying it. Not until the final chorus, after the meal is over and the bill is paid, can he utter the words aloud... and then it is too late. At least, that is what I was going for on an intuitive level.
For voice and piano only, to retain the intimacy of the subject.
As weird as this may sound, waitresses symbolize a portal to a new life. I have spent many a night eating alone in Manhattan, and the inspiration a waitress can create is comforting and often dimension-opening. Occasionally, a waitress appears at the end of my table with the sort of courage in her eyes that says she is not connected to any past, that she is full of intense curiosity and discovery and would be willing to throw everything out the window and start her life all over again. These moments open up avenues of feelings and musings I find liberating; as when a stranger suddenly becomes a potential soul-mate and you see yourself through different eyes.
I am just beginning a project I call "Archetypes," a series of songs that will be used in a cabaret setting that touch on modern archetypes. I thought "The Waitress" was worthy of representing that doorway to the new... opened to the lonely hearts of the world. That is why the waitress in my song doesn't use a pad to write down orders, she is able to memorize them and can come to the table with empty hands. I try and create a sense, in the first two choruses, of the vocals coming from the kitchen, or from deep inside the man's mind, something so distant that they aren't quite his own voice, as if he can't say it yet but can only imagine himself saying it. Not until the final chorus, after the meal is over and the bill is paid, can he utter the words aloud... and then it is too late. At least, that is what I was going for on an intuitive level.
For voice and piano only, to retain the intimacy of the subject.
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Lyrics
The Waitress (Take My Order)
At the edge of my table, at the edge of the world,
a waitress opens her hands.
I see that they're empty... she's able
to recall everything as she stands.
I fold up my life
and place it to the side.
I want to confide,
tell her everything I'd come to hide.
And she listens without effort.
Does she know how much she comforts,
taking everything inside?
And she glistens with an aura
that calls me to collide.
Take my order.
Come take my order now.
As the kitchen door opens
all the sounds and the lights that were hidden so carefully behind,
they tumble out after
and I wonder what else these walls are meant to hide?
Is she smoothing her hair as she thinks of what I have said?
Does she wonder, as I, what else I might want,
what lies ahead?
Take my order.
Am I ordered enough to know?
Take my order.
Can I order your eyes to go?
Make me order,
take me where you want to know.
Make me order and I'll know which way to go.
At the edge of my table, at the edge of the world,
an empty plate lies there abused.
There's more than I'm able to say to her now,
there's no time left and I'm too confused.
Does she know there's a cost
in defining the things we must choose?
Would she go there with me
to where nothing like normal hunger rules?
And she listens without effort.
Does she know how much she comforts,
taking everything inside.
And she glistens with an aura
that calls me to collide.
Take my order.
Am I ordered enough to know?
Take my order.
Can I order your eyes to go?
Make me order,
take me where you want to know.
Make me order and I'll know which way to go.
At the edge of my table, at the edge of the world,
a waitress opens her hands.
I see that they're empty... she's able
to recall everything as she stands.
I fold up my life
and place it to the side.
I want to confide,
tell her everything I'd come to hide.
And she listens without effort.
Does she know how much she comforts,
taking everything inside?
And she glistens with an aura
that calls me to collide.
Take my order.
Come take my order now.
As the kitchen door opens
all the sounds and the lights that were hidden so carefully behind,
they tumble out after
and I wonder what else these walls are meant to hide?
Is she smoothing her hair as she thinks of what I have said?
Does she wonder, as I, what else I might want,
what lies ahead?
Take my order.
Am I ordered enough to know?
Take my order.
Can I order your eyes to go?
Make me order,
take me where you want to know.
Make me order and I'll know which way to go.
At the edge of my table, at the edge of the world,
an empty plate lies there abused.
There's more than I'm able to say to her now,
there's no time left and I'm too confused.
Does she know there's a cost
in defining the things we must choose?
Would she go there with me
to where nothing like normal hunger rules?
And she listens without effort.
Does she know how much she comforts,
taking everything inside.
And she glistens with an aura
that calls me to collide.
Take my order.
Am I ordered enough to know?
Take my order.
Can I order your eyes to go?
Make me order,
take me where you want to know.
Make me order and I'll know which way to go.
Del
As a bartender, I may be partial to your subject matter. But these lyrics blow me away. The details somehow become mythic. You have captured an amazing moment. Your vocals have a naked honesty to them I totally envy. The repetitive piano makes me feel like it is a storyline of a guy who can't change... except in those moments when the piano uses block chords and, in those spaces, he imagines something new... Brilliant. Can't say enough good things.