the butter melts out of habit

the toast isn't even warm

the waitress and the man in the plaid shirt

play out a scene they've played

so many times before

I am watching the sun stumble home in the morning

from a bar on the east side of town

and the coffee is just water dressed in brown

beautiful but boring

he visited me yesterday

he noticed my fingers

and asked me if I would play

I didn't really care a lot

but I couldn't think of a reason why not

I said if you don't come any closer I don't mind if you stay

my thighs have been involved in many accidents

and now I can't get insured

and I don't need to be lured by you

my cunt is built like a wound that won't heal

and now you don't have to ask

because you know how I feel

you know how I feel



art is why I get up in the morning

but my definition ends there

and it doesn't seem fair

that I'm living for something I can't even define

there you are right there

in the meantime



I don't want to play for you anymore

show me what you can do

tell me what are you here for

I want my old friends

I want my old face

I want my old mind

fuck this time and place



the butter melts out of habit

you know, the toast isn't even warm