cold coffee sits on rickety little tables
while grand plans are constructed
novels poor out of young minds

dull and awkward second dates draw out
so much longer than needed
and the coffee goes cold they part ways

oh what comes out of those little coffee shop corners

a man calls for a plumber

that lady drew an owl

oh well he spilled that all over the place

the clatter and chatter never leaves a silence
like a library no it's warm and old and smells like my dreams last night

the greatest nights are spent becoming part of the coffee shop crowd
making stains on little tables and letting the coffee get cold