And so there she occupies a place
Waiting for a familiar face maybe or
Another stranger's façade to get use to
A new creature to explain herself, in her characteristic tone
But instead of pouring her heart out into another unexpected heart
She pumps her feelings out through the barrel of a pen
On to a green and white paper cup
She comes clean as the freezing
New Year cold people walk past
in there selfish saunter and sweat
She works hard at justifying why, why, why
She is the person that she is
Her excuses, after abundant excuses
Imperfections written in spoken word rhyme
Take it or leave it, no one talks back
They would only stare back with another question
Only can she hear the rhythms of motorcars and designer feet
Colliding with a cobble stone ground
Maid-of-all-work has lived
in this city for her whole entire life span
She's met, dumped and left clusters of people
From years in and years out.
This is the city where she use to run into
People, troubles and regrets
But in the last while she has not seen the
Scarred faces to rewind to events gone by
Where are they?
Are they disguised as older people?
Have they moved away from the city?
Did they get on with their life?
Who ended it somewhere?
Questions, questions, questions tap
Against the table top between the fingers and the cigarette
She's staring down blankly at her paper cup
Focused on her ink to form words
The musical background of traffic noise
Maybe she would see people she knew
If she only looked up for a minute or two
The sun is blinding as she looks up
Yup blinding
Like each relationship that she's had and passed up
Only the sun has kept her warm and alive
Feeling that there is hope yet
Hope that Tuesday will come to motivate her
She gets up and takes a step towards a life changing event
It all depends if she looks up from her paper cup
Paper Cup (written at a Starbucks)
Written by Crybaby®™
©2008
And so there she occupies a place
Waiting for a familiar face maybe or
Another stranger's façade to get use to
A new creature to explain herself, in her characteristic tone
But instead of pouring her heart out into another unexpected heart
She pumps her feelings out through the barrel of a pen
On to a green and white paper cup
She comes clean as the freezing
New Year cold people walk past
in there selfish saunter and sweat
She works hard at justifying why, why, why
She is the person that she is
Her excuses, after abundant excuses
Imperfections written in spoken word rhyme
Take it or leave it, no one talks back
They would only stare back with another question
Only can she hear the rhythms of motorcars and designer feet
Colliding with a cobble stone ground
Maid-of-all-work has lived
in this city for her whole entire life span
She's met, dumped and left clusters of people
From years in and years out.
This is the city where she use to run into
People, troubles and regrets
But in the last while she has not seen the
Scarred faces to rewind to events gone by
Where are they?
Are they disguised as older people?
Have they moved away from the city?
Did they get on with their life?
Who ended it somewhere?
Questions, questions, questions tap
Against the table top between the fingers and the cigarette
She's staring down blankly at her paper cup
Focused on her ink to form words
The musical background of traffic noise
Maybe she would see people she knew
If she only looked up for a minute or two
The sun is blinding as she looks up
Yup blinding
Like each relationship that she's had and passed up
Only the sun has kept her warm and alive
Feeling that there is hope yet
Hope that Tuesday will come to motivate her
She gets up and takes a step towards a life changing event
It all depends if she looks up from her paper cup
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