Thursday 8am Lyrics

We sit alone in this waiting room

Another Thursday, 8 a.m.  

I fumble with my cough drops

She sneezes (and) wipes her hand

And the rain is like a stranger

Rapping hard on the window pane

And I sense that I'm in danger                            

Of losing faith again                                            

She looks the same again this week

Perfect skin and a matching scarf 

This girl could be a movie star                                            

Leading men and throbbing hearts    

And the rain is getting louder 

As she flips through her magazine                     

(And) I guess at things about her

And wonder what they mean

And she seems nice

And me, I need a sign

Its the myth of 15 minutes          

And I've got the time

I play at being a writer

As the severance pays the rent

But the words they flow too slowly

And the money's nearly spent

And while the storm forms around us

I wait for the muse to hit

Writing scene of loves and scoundrels

But the endings never fit

And she seems nice

And me, I need a sign

This gift of 15 minutes

And I'm wasting time  

And I bet her life is easy

And she takes her coffee sweet

And doubt she's ever lonely

Or hides behind her dreams

And the rain is like a stranger

Pressing hard on the window pain

And I know that I'm in danger

Again

And she seems nice

And me, I need a sign

Its been 15 minutes

And I'm out of time