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letra de coffee shop - sin7ven

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[intro]
“i’m sorry, but i don’t do bargaining.”

[verse 1]
i glimpse inside and squint my eyes before the
light and aura, coated by a latticework of vines and flora
the luminescence of the shop envelops me
i’m outside glued against the window watching jealously

my hand is dead, i demand the right to mulligan
about to lose my head like an absent-minded dullahan
and feel like a ferret on a wheel…

[verse 2]
i’d give anything to get inside
my own reflection taunts me all menacing and heavy eyed
the radiating atmosphere from beyond the glass wall
makes me near curl up and crumble on the asphalt

how pleasant the interior must smell like
freshly ground beans, leather chairs under upheld lights
and i reek like the promise of a god…

[verse 3]
i decide i have to do act now or regret forever
get the cheddar enter in the temple be the check whatever
debt be d-mned, i’m tethered to a lengthy plan already
goblins in my head are mocking me and my extended hand
i turn the handle of the coffee shop and stumble in
walk up to the counter and start mumbling the dumbest thing
and i sound like a simp when i blab…

[verse 4]
i make my order and then drum my fingers on the desk
the colors bursting from the walls is something simply wondrous
upon further inspection i’m drawn further in depth in
the long serpentine webs of a strong herbal infection

what i didn’t see from the outside is now clear
the tables are all overgrown with flowers like a crown here
and i look like a bouquet made of th-rns…

[verse 5]
i lift my coffee when it’s finished hold still
and don’t spill it looking for an idyllic chilling place
and when i see a corner concealing a feminine vase
filled with nightshades, h-ll, i’m feeling red in the face

i swallow my pride and take the table in the corner
and open up a book to read the fable of a foreigner
and i taste like the bitter from a loss…

[verse 6]
i’ll make sure this little shop stays in business
buy a coffee every day to make the cut, fate be witness
and water all the flowers, mop the moss off the floor
and every single other motherf-cking god awful chore
staring at the painting of the coffee shop in vain
back in the exhibit, someone toggle off my brain
i don’t have the power that i need…

f-ck

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