Lyric The Opposite Of Coffee

She gets a haircut every June
On a kitchen chair
Last year it couldn t come too soon
Now she couldn t care
Her mind is otherwise occupied

She sits cross-legged on the floor
In an A-line skirt
But she d make a beeline for the door
If it was up to her

When the autumn leaves
Then the winter settles in
And sometimes it seems
As though that overcoat s her second skin

She often speaks so softly
She sends me to sleep
She s the opposite of coffee
She s the last thing I need first thing in the morning

When the autumn leaves
Then the winter settles in
And sometimes it seems
As though that overcoat s her second skin

Everything she says ends softer than it starts
So few of her sentences end in exclamation marks
She starts talking, I start yawning
She s the last thing I need first thing in the morning