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
Marco Giunco |
Work | Basket | Music | Words |