| It always happens in coffee shops
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| And I’m always hungover when someone wants to talk
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| And don’t get me wrong, I like talking when it’s a healthy back-and-forth
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| exchange
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| But some people always wanna lecture me and try to make me change
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| He says 'You are a mystery, aren’t you'
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| And considering he hasn’t shut up long enough for me to string two words
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| together
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| Yes that’s me, Miss Mystery
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| And he’s quiet for a time
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| And I think that might be a good sign
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| Til there’s a glint in his eye and I realise he’s just making more sentences in
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| his mind
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| And here it comes, and there’s nothing I can do
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| I take a sip, I take a breath
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| He licks his lips and he’s opening his mouth, and it’s:
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| Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
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| Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
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| Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
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| Blah blah dog diggity blah
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| Like a steam train
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| Like an onslaught
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| Like a machine gun loaded with your opinions but it’s incoherent ammunition and
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| your words aren’t very wounding weapons when they’re inflicted on me
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| And I know you mean well
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| With your deep wells of advice
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| And your buckets of swelled self-righteousness
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| Hell, you’re just trying to be nice
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| And you’re nice, but you state your views like they are facts of life
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| And I hate that, and I tell you
|
| And I brace myself for the reply, it’s gonna be:
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| Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
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| Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
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| Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
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| Blah blah dog diggity blah
|
| He says, 'You never were much of a talker'
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| Well this isn’t talking
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| This is being cornered
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| I’m being cornered by you
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| And I can’t get away
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| From this table for two
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| In the corner of this bright corner cafe
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| And didn’t we have this same conversation last week?
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| It’s not that I don’t like you — I just wish you wouldn’t speak:
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| Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
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| Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
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| Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
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| Blah blah dog diggity blah
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| I see he’s made a list
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| Of pressing topics of discussion
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| Competing with the clanking coffee cup percussion
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| And I guess we’ll start with number one
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| On the first A4 page
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| Past the setting of the sun
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| And the pouring of the lattes
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| And here it comes, it’s coming and there’s nothing anyone can do
|
| I take a sip
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| I grip the chair
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| He opens his big, wet slippery mouth:
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| Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
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| Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
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| Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
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| Blah blah dog diggity blah |