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