In the Café where I used to write

In the Café where I used to write
by Toradel'lin 2013

Spanish guitar plays at night,
In the café where I used to write.
There I found the bitter sweet,
There upon a dirty street.

The atmosphere felt real nice,
But attitudes were cold as ice.
Don’t understand and don’t care,
They can be jerks if that’s their fare.

(chorus)
People blow hot and cold,
And make you feel like growing old.
I just say, “let them go,”
They’re not worth the pain they sow.

Wistfully I think things'd be fine
If one would share hearts with mine.
But I realize that’s just a mean
Joke they play upon your bean.

Just let them go, and just be free,
I lead a life independently.
It’s not worth the burning ache
Worrying about every others sake.


(chorus)
People blow hot and cold,
And make you feel like growing old.
I just say, “let them go,”
They’re not worth the pain they sow.

I’d like my life to be real nice,
I’d even pay a higher price.
It always feels like traipsing mud.
Guess I’ve landed with a dud.

I’d like to pray but I think that Christ
Is about as holy as a pack of rice.
I believe in being good,
And that is all you really should.

(chorus)
People blow hot and cold,
And make you feel like growing old.
I just say, “let them go,”
They’re not worth the pain they sow.