Black Coffee


I’m feeling mighty lonesome
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’ll never know a Sunday
In this weekday room

I’m talking to the shadows
1 o’clock to 4
And Lord, how slow the moments go
When all I do is pour
Black Coffee
Since the blues caught my eye
I’m hanging out on Monday
My Sunday dream’s too dry

Now a man is born to go a lovin’
A woman’s born to weep and fret
To stay at home and tend her oven
And drown her past regrets
In coffee and cigarettes

I’m moody all the morning
Mourning all the night
And in between it’s nicotine
And not much hard to fight
Black Coffee
Feelin’ low as the ground
It’s driving me crazy just waiting for my baby
To maybe come around

My nerves have gone to pieces
My hair is turning gray
All I do is drink black coffee
Since my man’s gone away


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Posted in Ella Fitzgerald and tagged , , , , .

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