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 
And 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 horoscopes and looking for the funnies 
When I'm feeling someone's 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, 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... And I'm thinking of your voice