Choices

The scenery is different every time

But the question is the same

"What will it be today?" 

She asks over a computer screen

Over a notepad 

Over a pair of reading glasses

I fall for it every time 

And you can hear me from anywhere

My voice echoes around the world 

"What are my choices?" 

"You can choose anything." 

She taps the pencil against her notepad

Her fingers against the keyboard 

Her foot against the floor

While she waits for me to answer 

Every fucking time

The rythym molds into me

It's my heart beat now

It's an easy decision

"Got any specials?" 

She shakes her head, 'no'

"I'll take the usual." 

Its the same everywhere 

In the library, the diner, the secretary's office

It's a viscious cycle, operating at a pace I can't match

But I still sit down at the end of the day

And I let her ask the question

(It's my fault, really)

And I choose

(So it's really my fault)

And I'm still living 

(So it's not even a real problem)