In a small café on the edge of town
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A beat up truck and a motorbike hangin' round
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You were sittin' in the shade
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You didn't have much to say
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In that small café
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In the heat of the day
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A summer breeze was blowin' and a jukebox played
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A long forgotten song from a long forgotten decade
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All the windows were broken
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So much for the plans that we made
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Nothin' lasts forever anyway
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No small café
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The sign says, "For Sale - a vacant lot to build"
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Yeah, but the café's still standin' there alone in the evenin' chill
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If only those tables could speak
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What stories they could tell
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But they'll bury them with the garbage as well
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Too much trouble to sell
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