I am sitting In the morning At the diner On the corner | | I am waiting At the counter For the man To pour the coffee |
And he fills it Only halfway And before I even argue | | He is looking Out the window At somebody Coming in |
"It is always Nice to see you" Says the man Behind the counter | | To the woman Who has come in She is shaking Her umbrella |
And I look The other way As they are kissing Their hellos | | I'm pretending Not to see them Instead I pour the milk |
I open Up the paper There's a story Of an actor | | Who had died While he was drinking It was no one I had heard of |
And I'm turning To the horoscope And looking For the funnies | | When I'm feeling Someone watching me And so I raise my head |
There's a woman On the outside Looking inside Does she see me? | | No she does not Really see me Cause she sees Her own reflection |
And I'm trying Not to notice That she's hitching Up her skirt | | And while she's Straightening her stockings Her hair Is getting wet |
Oh, this rain It will continue Through the morning As I'm listening | | To the bells Of the cathedral I am thinking Of your voice... |
And of the midnight picnic Once upon a time Before the rain began... | | I finish up my coffee It's time to catch the train |
pritty cool
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