Out of Habit

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