Blah Blah Kate Miller-Heidke

It always happens in coffee shops
And I'm always hungover when someone wants to talk
And don't get me wrong, I like talking when it's a healthy back-and-forth exchange
But some people always wanna lecture me and try to make me change
He says 'You are a mystery, aren't you'
And considering he hasn't shut up long enough for me to string two words together
Yes that's me, Miss Mystery
And he's quiet for a time
And I think that might be a good sign
Til there's a glint in his eye and I realise he's just making more sentences in his mind
And here it comes, and there's nothing I can do
I take a sip, I take a breath
He licks his lips and he's opening his mouth, and it's:

Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
Blah blah blah blah blah blah blah
Blah blah dog diggity blah

Like a steam train
Like an onslaught
Like a machine gun loaded with your opinions but it's incoherent ammunition and your words aren't very wounding weapons when they're inflicted on me
And I know you mean well
With your deep wells of advice
And your buckets of swelled self-righteousness
Hell, you're just trying to be nice
And you're nice, but you state your views like they are facts of life
And I hate that, and I tell you
And I brace myself for the reply, it's gonna be: