
Karaoke Live: sing this song → TRELL NOVA opened it for karaoke: their instrumental, their lyrics on a clock. Premium sings; everyone listens and votes.
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(three a.m.) (mm)
Waffle House! (three a.m.) Back booth!
That's where you tell me the whole truth
Waffle House! (three a.m.) Yellow light!
You ain't gotta be fine for me tonight
Scattered, smothered, covered, cryin' in your food
I ain't goin' nowhere. I ain't in a mood.
Candler Road, the one by the Chevron, you know it
Miss Denise on the grill, she don't write it, she just know it (hey baby)
You in my hoodie with the mascara runnin'
Tellin' me your daddy called and he ain't say nothin' (nothin')
Just breathed on the phone. Eleven years late.
And you don't know if that's a door or that's bait.
I don't got the answer. I got a fork and a ear.
Eat somethin'. Talk slow. I'm right here.
Dude at the counter fightin' with the jukebox
Somebody's prom date sleepin' in a tux
And it's us. In the ugliest light that they make.
And you still the prettiest thing in this place.
Waffle House! (three a.m.) Back booth!
That's where you tell me the whole truth
Waffle House! (three a.m.) Yellow light!
You ain't gotta be fine for me tonight
Anybody love you at the rooftop in the dress
I want the three a.m. you, the hair-tied, the mess (that one)
I want the you that snort when you laugh too hard
I want the you that's scared and still playin' the card
My pops wasn't there, so I know how that ring
A phone call can undo a whole lotta healin'
But you ain't gotta do that math by yourself
I'll sit in this booth till they put us on the shelf
Miss Denise said "y'all been here since two"
I said "ma'am, I'll be here till she through."
Refill... (refill)
Take your time... (your time)
Sun comin' up.
(I AIN'T GOIN' NOWHERE!)
Waffle House! (three a.m.) Back booth!
That's where you tell me the whole truth
Waffle House! (three a.m.) Yellow light!
You ain't gotta be fine for me tonight
Scattered, smothered, covered, cryin' in your food
I'll be the one who stayed. That's the whole move.
East Atlanta, Candler Road. He sings, but over drums that would hold a rapper, and he says the quiet part out loud. Not a loverman. The one who tells you the truth at 3 a.m. and still means it in the morning.