Текст песни: Diner Coffee + перевод

Sweet and low, wondering how deep he goes

So she’s being bold and plunging 20, 000 leagues below

The breed of fishes that she frequently swims with

Because she’s seeking difference and

This bottom feeder, he might peak her interests

He drinks it black, half and half provides a fog

To the diner coffee, the complicated dialogue

Conversation cascades, adding to this ashtray

Overlapped, getting last place in the rat race

She’s got the benefits, he’s got the penmanship

She’s not impressed with all his cliches and references

But, he seems competitive at, least for a pessimist

So maybe she’s the victim of the unexpected twist?

This can’t be serious, she’d never date a lyricist

They get another round just to keep themselves delirious

3:30 am, they’re on the seventh cup

And he’s nice, but he’s not the type that she could ever love, right?

Swallowed by an art deco cushioned booth seat

They’ll discuss novels that they’ve never read and dress like extras in a movie

The kind they don’t make anymore

He’s always dug the diners where it’s quiet aside from the plates and the forks

And she, she admires any dive that lacks familiar faces

Shallow conversation or the ignorance they fill her days with

He’s certain that’s he’s got her surface exposed

Like, «Who you kidding, little liberal in conservative clothes»?

But when the stars short circuit, the moon is in a free fall

It joins the sun in the center of the see-saw

And in the moment just before they descend

You can look up in the sky and it all makes sense

But he’s a designated Dear John letter in the making

And she’s a wall street road block in the pavement

It’s 8:30 am, they’re on the ninth cup

As they waltz with the words that try to define love, like

She’s an over-achiever where he’s afraid to attempt

He’s got the soul of a dreamer where she’s created a fence

And she’s painted it white picket so the neighbors wouldn’t notice

That she’s hopelessly devoted to her motives as a poet

But, now they’re finished skipping stones across the surface

He’s got her body language written out in cursive

Over-analytical, the typical wordsmith

Maybe it’s a mismatch, maybe this is perfect

Tonight the pen is gonna play the part of therapist

He’ll write the story down in third person narrative

He’s not embarrassed but it’s difficult to tell

Since he never really wrote a love song about himself

They had the caffeine and clever conversation

Till the patrons said good morning when they ordered eggs and bacon

Now there’s a hesitation waiting at the bottom of the mug

Like, what you doing later? Would you wanna fall in love?

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