“Hey, Barista Babe, we’ve written a song about you.”
Ryker whips around from his spot behind the cash register.
“What did you just call me?” Penny laughs.
“I accidentally let it slip about your crush… And some of the regulars have been calling us Barista Babes.” Ryker’s face goes red as he stutters, “Like, who?” Penny gives him a devious smile.
“Oh, I think you know…”
She was my tempest in a Hatter’s teacup.
My puzzle in a riddle inside an enigma, she made up.
She was my treasure chest under the depths of the sea.
And reality took the best of me and sent me into space.
And my heart was still under its retreat
But she began to speak and it softened easily
All the pins she wore shouldered on her sleeve
Pierced a gaping hole which didn’t bother me
Angelic relics playing for my heart
My preference for my dreams, torn apart
She ended all the questions I had storming round in me
Please don’t tell (she was small but she was fierce)
Please don’t tell (she ignited all your fuses)
Please don’t tell (sunny disposition shifts into gear)
Please don’t tell (silly little crush on a girl)
She was the answer for my downcast, melancholic blues
She was pillow talk in a coffeeshop with french new wave hues
A minute of interaction took us down a tunnel to
The only place in this good age where lovers go get rude
Revoke your membership for the antisocial social crew
But darling please, don’t get upset if I stop saying to you
Pillow talk in this coffee shop was romance I could do
Then the lips relax their tension and the hands begin to slide
till in little sparks of action, they fall gently at her side
And please don’t say you missed her smiling right at you.
Please don’t tell…