(P.F. Webster / S. Burke)
I'm feelin'mighty lonesome,
haven't slept a wink
I walk the floor and watch
the door and in between
I drink black coffee
Love's hand me down broom
I'll never know a Sunday
In this weekday room
I'm talkin' to the shadows
One o'clock till four
And Lord, how slow
the moments go
When 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 a man is born to go a lovin'
A woman's born to weep and fret
To stay at home and
tend her over
And drown het past regrets
in coffee and cigarettes!