Cafe Girl Songtext
von Sage Francis
Cafe Girl Songtext
Author: Sage Francis
We walk as two, but we′ll leave one set of tortured footprints/
Now here she comes... walking through the door... giving that look. Since/
I roll with shook wimps... I'm shaking in my boots/
Kids are behind me eating steak and soup, talking ′bout beatbreaks and loops/
And I wanna' turn around... join in on the convo, but I ain't got jack to say/
And it′s sad to say... I′m just a poetry fag actin' gay in my black beret/
I just came to this wack-ass café /
To drink an ice coffee and kill a bit of time before the matinee/
Why oh why did I need Cappaccino Cooler?/
Now I′m trying to avoid eye contact. Lets see if I can fool her/
I put a look of concentration on my face as I scribble on a napkin/
Squinting my eyes, acting like I'm really serious about this mess of non-sensical pen action/
A web of chicken scratch and ink blots/
Is she still there? Standing awkwardly glaring? I think not/
Look up... think again. Shit... now when/
Is she going stop making me waste ink from my pen as I sit and pretend/
I knew I should have come with a friend. I shrink and I send/
Myself into meditation... and I′m on the brink of Zen/
Is she buying it? I pick up my empty glass... tilt it.and drink the flem/
She's STILL scoping! in fact, this chick′s a 10/
At least in my book... which isn't all that well read, but it's been said /
Once she gets her grip on men they simply bend/...backwards.
She attracts nerds, jocks, substitutes and student teachers /
Who all profess their love for all of her protruding features/
There′s no fooling this creature, she′s WAY fine/
So dope, I'd have to smuggle her across state lines or else pay fines/
What′s holding me back is what I heard through the grape vine/
She's a non-conformist freak who only comes out in the daytime/
"Don′t look at me." I can feel the burn of her stare on my sensitive skin/
I'm anti-social and I don′t know how conversational sentences begin/
Plus, I'm allergic to the medicine of sexual healing/
This impotence is sickening. She's sensual... appealing/
Now I′m covering up my crotch region by crossing my legs/
Lost in thoughts of whores in my bed. It′s awful... so I'm forcing my head/
Into my forearms. I should... invite her for a cup of Joe/
It would do more harm than good... I just know/
I mean... she′s no Natalie Portman, and I've been kind of holding out for her/
Naturally... Now my thoughts spin... and she′s on the "out" for sure/
Gradually... contort my mindframe so no doubts occur/
I activate testicular bravery and I shout to her/
Our eyes lock.
And time stops.../
She floats over to my spot...
And I say "Hi, I'm not/
Trying to hit on you like the way all these other guys jock/
I just wanna′ let you know... I'm the type of person who lies a lot/
Sometimes I fart and I pick my nose like a maniac/
I'd be glad to front the cost of a date with you as long as you pay me back/
If we ever reach the friendship level where things like that are shared/
And I know my facial hair is weird... but I′ve been waiting for someone like you to shave my beard/
I′m usually more discreet about my insecurities, but today... I just ain't prepared."/
In all honesty... this dame just stared/
And I was like "Uhhh... yeah.../
So ummm... heh..."
Nervous twitches were initiated and out nostrils flared/
Our eyes started wandering and I was rocking in my chair/
I just continued on scared that I lost her... in my upfront approach/
She looked at my napkin and noticed what I wrote/
...which was nothing
I said "The funny thing is... I could have used you as a muse/
Wrote you sonnets in iambic pentameter and then produced/
Mass amounts of unsent love letters and out-of-tune love ballads/
Some valid... but most just to get you thinking of marriage/
It′s untrue. I don't want to create a first impression I can′t live up to/
I... just... wanna...
She said "Nuff said. I'm a theme park. Ride me until the sun sets."/
So I jumped up on her shoulders as we exited the entrance.
We walk as two, but we′ll leave one set of tortured footprints/
Now here she comes... walking through the door... giving that look. Since/
I roll with shook wimps... I'm shaking in my boots/
Kids are behind me eating steak and soup, talking ′bout beatbreaks and loops/
And I wanna' turn around... join in on the convo, but I ain't got jack to say/
And it′s sad to say... I′m just a poetry fag actin' gay in my black beret/
I just came to this wack-ass café /
To drink an ice coffee and kill a bit of time before the matinee/
Why oh why did I need Cappaccino Cooler?/
Now I′m trying to avoid eye contact. Lets see if I can fool her/
I put a look of concentration on my face as I scribble on a napkin/
Squinting my eyes, acting like I'm really serious about this mess of non-sensical pen action/
A web of chicken scratch and ink blots/
Is she still there? Standing awkwardly glaring? I think not/
Look up... think again. Shit... now when/
Is she going stop making me waste ink from my pen as I sit and pretend/
I knew I should have come with a friend. I shrink and I send/
Myself into meditation... and I′m on the brink of Zen/
Is she buying it? I pick up my empty glass... tilt it.and drink the flem/
She's STILL scoping! in fact, this chick′s a 10/
At least in my book... which isn't all that well read, but it's been said /
Once she gets her grip on men they simply bend/...backwards.
She attracts nerds, jocks, substitutes and student teachers /
Who all profess their love for all of her protruding features/
There′s no fooling this creature, she′s WAY fine/
So dope, I'd have to smuggle her across state lines or else pay fines/
What′s holding me back is what I heard through the grape vine/
She's a non-conformist freak who only comes out in the daytime/
"Don′t look at me." I can feel the burn of her stare on my sensitive skin/
I'm anti-social and I don′t know how conversational sentences begin/
Plus, I'm allergic to the medicine of sexual healing/
This impotence is sickening. She's sensual... appealing/
Now I′m covering up my crotch region by crossing my legs/
Lost in thoughts of whores in my bed. It′s awful... so I'm forcing my head/
Into my forearms. I should... invite her for a cup of Joe/
It would do more harm than good... I just know/
I mean... she′s no Natalie Portman, and I've been kind of holding out for her/
Naturally... Now my thoughts spin... and she′s on the "out" for sure/
Gradually... contort my mindframe so no doubts occur/
I activate testicular bravery and I shout to her/
Our eyes lock.
And time stops.../
She floats over to my spot...
And I say "Hi, I'm not/
Trying to hit on you like the way all these other guys jock/
I just wanna′ let you know... I'm the type of person who lies a lot/
Sometimes I fart and I pick my nose like a maniac/
I'd be glad to front the cost of a date with you as long as you pay me back/
If we ever reach the friendship level where things like that are shared/
And I know my facial hair is weird... but I′ve been waiting for someone like you to shave my beard/
I′m usually more discreet about my insecurities, but today... I just ain't prepared."/
In all honesty... this dame just stared/
And I was like "Uhhh... yeah.../
So ummm... heh..."
Nervous twitches were initiated and out nostrils flared/
Our eyes started wandering and I was rocking in my chair/
I just continued on scared that I lost her... in my upfront approach/
She looked at my napkin and noticed what I wrote/
...which was nothing
I said "The funny thing is... I could have used you as a muse/
Wrote you sonnets in iambic pentameter and then produced/
Mass amounts of unsent love letters and out-of-tune love ballads/
Some valid... but most just to get you thinking of marriage/
It′s untrue. I don't want to create a first impression I can′t live up to/
I... just... wanna...
She said "Nuff said. I'm a theme park. Ride me until the sun sets."/
So I jumped up on her shoulders as we exited the entrance.
Writer(s): Landry Paul F, Delcarpini Joe Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com