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(The Intimate Ella) |
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I'm feeling mighty lonesome |
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Haven't slept a wink |
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I walk the floor and watch the door |
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And in between I drink |
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Black Coffee |
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Love's a hand me down brew |
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I'll never know a Sunday |
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In this weekday room |
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I'm talking to the shadows |
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1 o'clock to 4 |
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And Lord, how slow the moments go |
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When all I do is pour |
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Black Coffee |
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Since the blues caught my eye |
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I'm hanging out on Monday |
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My Sunday dream's too dry |
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Now a man is born to go a lovin' |
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A woman's born to weep and fret |
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To stay at home and tend her oven |
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And drown her past regrets |
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In coffee and cigarettes |
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I'm moody all the morning |
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Mourning all the night |
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And in between it's nicotine |
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And not much hard to fight |
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Black Coffee |
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Feelin' low as the ground |
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It's driving me crazy just waiting for my baby |
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To maybe come around |
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My nerves have gone to pieces |
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My hair is turning gray |
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All I do is drink black coffee |
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Since my man's gone away |
