Sage Francis Cafe Girl Letras:
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
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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 start fiddling with my gear, I uh 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 before the sun sets."/ So I jumped up on
her shoulders as we exited the entrance.
Letras: Cafe Girl Sage Francis [final]