I come through here quite often And I think about you I come through here quite often And I wonder what you do A wrong turn at the corner I could say I got lost A confusion of memories Where two streets crossed The vision I remember Is eyes through the steam Coming off the coffee And rising off the cream And I don't even know you And I don't mean to stare But I know what you're thinking I can see that you dare to Care about people and look into their lives As you hand them a spoon, as you polish the knives You reach out and touch one every once in a while With off handed wisdom or a lop-sided smile Now they say, "Don't talk to strangers" I say, "Why the hell not?" If you don't talk to strangers Tell me, what have you got? A world without wisdom A life without laughs A season of loneliness And friendships in halves Do you care about strangers And look into their lives? Their sons and their daughters Their husbands and wives So I come here for coffee And I watch your face To see secret kindness And watch quiet grace