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The butter melts out of habit |
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You know the toast isn't even warm |
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And the waitress and the man in the plaid shirt |
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Play out a scene they've played so many times before |
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Watchin' the sun stumble home in the mornin' |
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From a bar on the east side of town |
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And the coffee is just water dressed in brown |
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Beautiful but boring, he visited me yesterday |
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And he noticed my fingers and asked me if |
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I would play |
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And I didn't really care a lot |
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But I couldn't think of a reason why not |
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I said, "If you don't come any closer I don't mind if you stay" |
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My thighs have been involved in many accidents |
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And now I can't get insured |
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And I don't need to be lured by you |
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My cunt is built like a wound that won't heal |
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And now you don't have to ask |
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Because you know how |
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I feelBut now you know how |
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I feelYou know art is why |
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I get up in the mornin' |
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But my definition ends there |
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You know it doesn't seem fair |
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That I'm livin' for something |
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I can't even define |
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There you are right there |
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In the meantime, well you know |
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I don't want to play for you anymore |
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Show me what you can do |
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Tell me what are you here for? |
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I want my old friends, |
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I want my old face |
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I want my old mind, **** this time and place |
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You know, the butter melts out of habit |
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The toast isn't even warm |
