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I am sitting
In the morning
At the diner
On the corner
I am waiting
At the counter
For the man
To pour the coffee
And he fills it
Only halfway
And before
I even argue
He is looking
Out the window
At somebody
Coming in
"It is always
Nice to see you"
Says the man
Behind the counter
To the woman
Who has come in
She is shaking
Her umbrella
And I look
The other way
As they are kissing
Their hellos
I'm pretending
Not to see them
And instead
I pour the milk
I open
Up the paper
There's a story
Of an actor
Who had died
While he was drinking
It was no one
I had heard of
And I'm turning
To the horoscope
And looking
For the funnies
When I'm feeling
Someone watching me
And so
I raise my head
There's a woman
On the outside
Looking inside
Does she see me?
No she does not
Really see me
'Cause she sees
Her own reflection
And I'm trying
Not to notice
That she's hitching
Up her skirt
And while she's
Straightening her stockings
Her hair
Has gotten wet
Oh, this rain
It will continue
Through the morning
As I'm listening
To the bells
Of the cathedral
I am thinking
Of your voice...
And of the midnight picnic
Once upon a time
Before the rain began...
I finish up my coffee
It's time to catch the train
In the morning
At the diner
On the corner
I am waiting
At the counter
For the man
To pour the coffee
And he fills it
Only halfway
And before
I even argue
He is looking
Out the window
At somebody
Coming in
"It is always
Nice to see you"
Says the man
Behind the counter
To the woman
Who has come in
She is shaking
Her umbrella
And I look
The other way
As they are kissing
Their hellos
I'm pretending
Not to see them
And instead
I pour the milk
I open
Up the paper
There's a story
Of an actor
Who had died
While he was drinking
It was no one
I had heard of
And I'm turning
To the horoscope
And looking
For the funnies
When I'm feeling
Someone watching me
And so
I raise my head
There's a woman
On the outside
Looking inside
Does she see me?
No she does not
Really see me
'Cause she sees
Her own reflection
And I'm trying
Not to notice
That she's hitching
Up her skirt
And while she's
Straightening her stockings
Her hair
Has gotten wet
Oh, this rain
It will continue
Through the morning
As I'm listening
To the bells
Of the cathedral
I am thinking
Of your voice...
And of the midnight picnic
Once upon a time
Before the rain began...
I finish up my coffee
It's time to catch the train
Lyrics submitted by Novartza
Track duration: 03:48
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Strange, I've heard this song like a million times, but only when I stopped and read the lyrics (on one of the lyrics websites) did the start to make sense to me. My take:
It's a snapshot of the speaker's feelings during a short morning scene at a cafe. She doesn't seem to be feeling great about herself. First, she's ignored by the waiter, who then goes on to show preferential treatment to another customer. She tries to turn to something else, the paper, but the news there is bad too - an actor who died while drinking. Perhaps the speaker is also an artist and can't help but identify with the actor - will her stumbling career end that way too? Okay, maybe that was a bit of a stretch - but at the very least, encountering that article seems to reflect and enhance the speaker's gloominess.
"Turning to the horoscope" - equates to asking: and what will be of ME? And again, perhaps asking, how will my fate end up compared to that actor?
"Looking for the funnies" - in hope of consolation, that she does not get to, once again, because she's interrupted by the feeling of being watched.
Now, this being watched thing can be read at more than one level. Perhaps, as others suggested, this shows the disconnection between people (the other woman can't see her). But on another level, I'd say the other woman is the speaker as well. I mean, "on the outside, looking inside" is a perfect description of introspection.
"Does she see me?" - do I understand myself? or, perhaps, does my external behavior reflect who I am? Can I see myself for who I truly am, or have I got caught up in my "reflection",i.e. the face I like to show to the world.
"Hitching up her skirt…. and while she's straightening her stocking / her hair has gotten wet"
The author is reflecting on how stressing (and perhaps using) her sexuality has worked out for her. Did she get damaged along the way ("her hair has gotten wet").
"Wet" seems to represents sadness - as is evidenced by the sigh "oh… this rain" - the gloomy period in the speaker's life isn't over yet. Perhaps it will continue as long as she's "listening to … the cathedral… thinking of your voice", that is, not over him.
The song seems to be about living in today's society. Each person has their own life, and most are isolated from one another. The main character is a woman whom seems to be lonely in her isolated world. She is looking if people notice her ("Does she see me?") and distracting herself in between (e.g. ignoring the greeting between the two acquaintances, looking through the paper, listening to the cathedral bells and thinking of someone's voice). The loneliness that she embodies seems to be a shared loneliness in today's society. We are social beings, and usually are looking to connect with someone. When on our own we tend to occupy our minds with our own thoughts or outside distractions (e.g. reading, writing, music, etc...). At other times we tend to seek contact with another, be it that casual hello or even a moment of eye contact.
Suzanne Vega seems to be telling a story that expands further than the main character. The man behind the counter and the woman who walks in seem to have their own separate lives, isolated from the main character. The woman looking inside is going about her own life. She doesn't acknowledge anyone in the diner, only focusing on herself. The dead actor whom the main character does not recognize, was just another person drifting along through this world. Some people may know (remember) you and others will not. As if we live in our little worlds which sometimes may connect with others.
There's nothing worse to a woman than go unnoticed!
By the way, Suzanne Vega's voice sounds so similar to Sophie Ellis-Bextor's -- to me.