Tom's Diner

I am waiting in the morning at the diner on the corner.
I am waiting at the counter for the man to pour the coffee,
And he fills it only halfway, and before I even argue,
He is looking out the window at somebody coming in.

"It is always nice to see you," says the man behind the counter
To the woman who has come in. She is shaking her umbrella,
And I look the other way as they are kissing their hellos,
And I pretend that I don't see them, and instead I pour the milk.

I open up the paper. There's the story of some actor
Who had died while he was drinking. It was no one I had heard of.
So I'm turning to the horoscopes, and looking for the funnies,
But I'm feeling someone watching me, and so I raise my head.

There's this woman on the outside looking inside.
Does she see me? No, she does not really see me.
She sees her own reflection. And I'm trying not to notice
That she's hitching up her skirt, and while she's straightening her stockings,
Her hair is getting wet.

Oh, this rain it will continue through the morning.
As I'm listening to the bells of the cathedral,
I am thinking of your voice...

--Suzanne Vega