|
I'm feelin' mighty lonesome |
|
Haven't slept a wink |
|
I walk the floor from nine to four |
|
In between I drink |
|
Black coffee |
|
Love's a hand-me-down brew |
|
I'll never know a Sunday |
|
In this weekday room |
|
|
|
I'm talkin to the shadow |
|
One o'clock till four |
|
And Lord, how slow the moments go |
|
And all I do is pour |
|
Black coffee |
|
Since the blues caught my eye |
|
I'm hangin' out on Monday |
|
My Sunday dreams to dry |
|
|
|
Now man was born to go a lovin' |
|
But was a woman born to weep and fret |
|
And stay at home and tend her oven |
|
And down her past regrets |
|
In coffee and cigarettes |
|
|
|
I'm moonin' all the mornin' |
|
Moanin' all the night |
|
And in between it's nicotine |
|
And not much heart to fight |
|
Black coffee |
|
Feelin' low as the ground |
|
It's drivin' me crazy |
|
This thinkin' 'bout my baby |
|
Might maybe come around |
|
Come around |