Waffle House Zubat

It’s 3 A.M., drunks fightin’ in the lot,

Scattered, smothered, covered hash browns hot.

Old folks smokin’ menthols by the door,

When a swarm of Zubat dive like it’s goddamn war.

They’re flappin’ at grandpa, suckin’ on his head,

Grandma swingin’ purse like she’s fightin’ the dead.

Coffee spills, jukebox breaks in half,

Waitress yells, “Tip me first if you’re gonna crash!”

Oh, Zubat terror at the Waffle House night,

Old folks screamin’ like a Jerry Springer fight.

Bat wings flappin’, syrup on the floor,

A senior discount don’t help no more.

One dude in the corner tryin’ to snort his grits,

While a Zubat crawls inside his armpit.

Grandpa’s dentures got snatched in the dark,

Now they’re flyin’ through the air like Jurassic Park.

Cook in the back still flippin’ them eggs,

While bats hang upside down lickin’ syrup off kegs.

Police roll up, but they won’t get far,

’Cause the Zubat stole the keys to the patrol car.

Oh, Zubat terror at the Waffle House night,

Old folks swingin’ like a Walmart fight.

Bat wings flappin’, syrup on the floor,

AARP card don’t work no more.

“Back in my day,” old man starts to cry,

But a Zubat sucked the nicotine straight from his eye.

Grandma pull a flask, takes a whiskey sip,

Says “If the bats don’t kill me, the Waffle House will, bitch.”

Zubat screamin’, biscuits in flames,

Hash browns burnin’, nobody knows names.

If you’re leavin’ church or leavin’ the bar,

Don’t fuck with a Zubat in the Waffle House yard.

Scattered, smothered, covered…

And terrorized.