black coffee
I feel so lonely, haven't slept a wink. I walk the floor, and watch the door .And in between I drink black coffee.
Love's a hand-me-down brew. I never know why Sunday in this weekday brew?
I'm talking to the shadows, 1 o'clock till 4, and Lord how slow the moments go.
All I do is pour black coffee.
Since the blues caught my eye, i'm hanging out on Monday, but sunday dreams too dry, they say a man is born to go alone
and a woman is born to weep and frett, to stay at home and drown her past regrets.