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