What'll It Be

Good morning what'll it be? I'm Robin, I'll be serving you this morning, thanks for waiting, I'll be right with you, what'll it be? This morning: what'll it be? just a morning, one more Friday in December; same black coffee, same cold city, same old me. And you smile as the morning crowd arrives day after day, year after year and you watch as they go about their lives while you stay here... What's happening, what'll it be? Are you happy, are you coming, are you going? in the mirror, in the future what do you see? Is there something round the corner in the distance? if you're waiting what'll it be that makes the difference? will you know it when you see it; What'll it be? And I stare through the windows at the world this bit of world that I can see - and I try not to think about that girl who looked like me... ...who laughed, and danced, and knew what she was facing; who believed the world was hers to find a place in; and I tell myself this year could be the right year but we both know this time tomorrow I'll be right here saying... ...Morning! What'll it be? I'm Robin, waiting tables, waiting patiently for something, never knowing what'll it be? and you're fine, they say time is on your side you'll work it out, just let it be. And you smile at the people going by... ...and they don't see... ...that you stand wide awake in the window at night and you stare down the street in the flickering light through the wide-eyed reflection of the girl that you might still be, at a city you can't quite see, saying "Robin, what'll it be?"