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