Often

Lyrics

The front window's fogged up again.
Just like yesterday morning.
It’s 7:15 AM.
I wouldn't have it any other way.
This is my place.

Tucked in my wallet, right behind my driver's license...
I keep a special little card. It's a bit dog-eared now.
The corners have gone soft.
The ink has bled a little from that time in October when it rained.
I smooth it out on the worn wooden counter.
Nine perfect little coffee beans, all stamped in a row.
Stamped in that faded purple ink.
Just one more empty circle left to go.

Yeah, I do this often.
You know my spot, you know my time.
I slide it right across to you, and you always smile.
Just give me one more punch, and the next one's mine.
You know I do this often.
It happens all the time.

You always have the stamp ready.
That little purple ink pad is waiting.
You know just how I like it when you press it down.
Firm and right in the center, no hesitating.
I love that little sound it makes.
A solid, satisfying little thud.
Another step closer to what I came here for.
Another little piece of my day, understood.

Yeah, I do this often.
You know my spot, you know my time.
I slide it right across to you, and you always smile.
Just give me one more punch, and the next one's mine.
You know I do this often.
It happens all the time.

Some people chase excitement.
They want big thrills and neon lights.
But me, I find my comfort right here.
In these quiet, familiar morning rites.
This little piece of paper tells a story.
Of early Mondays, and long Wednesdays, and rainy Fridays.
A story told in ten small parts.
And the ending, the tenth one... it's always the sweetest part.

You fill the last one.
You flip it over.
"Congratulations," you say with a grin.
You take my new card...
And give me that first punch, to begin it all again.
Yeah.
I'll be back tomorrow.
I do this... often.