A Rebours

No Exit

A Rebours


I swear I was in a café when I died;
It's the only explanation that I can abide.
'Cause here you come with a look full of longing,
Sitting down across from me with a chai latte.
And suddenly, I'm tangled in the coma-inducing web of your life.
Here they come: all the Cliffs Notes of your boring play.
Within minutes I feel like I've been here all day.
Yes, here it comes—why you hate your job,
The guy you like and what you did this weekend.
And I realize an hour has passed
And I haven't heard a word you've said.

I know I've died, and I'm paying for some time
When I was unjust, or just unkind.
Why else am I drowning in your endless droning,
Struggling to maintain a smile?

I'm sure you're not altogether bad
But you're still a pain in the ass.
And nothing I could say
Would leave your self-esteem intact.
You're such an awful boor
When you come through the door
I want to run and hide
But our paths always collide.

I swear we are in the café of dismay.
We're stars in the sequel to Sartre's dreary play.
Your mind is like a TV set tuned a dead channel in the night,
Though I prefer the sound of lush white noise
To the broken static of your life.

I must've died, and I'm paying for some time
When I was unjust or just unkind.
Why else am I drowning in your endless droning,
Struggling to maintain a smile?

Then you croon, "Thanks so much for listening,"
As if I had a choice, as if I had a choice.
I'd rather be beaten with a blunt instrument
Than listen to your noise, than listen to your voice.
Keep your iron voice locked away.
And keep your mouth closed long enough for me to say, "Goodbye."

Composição: Ian Stone

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