A Hymn For The Coffee Songtext

Bless the coffee that passes between her lips,
â??cause the caffine gives the woman a nervous twitch.
When she crossed those big white thighs, what I saw could hardly have been intended.
And her skirted suit it implies to me,
She should not chastise so calously,
As the woman who shared my bed and wiped my brow for the past three years.
And my true love don't drink her coffeee like her,
Don't wear lipstick like her,
My true love, she is cursed.
And my true love don't swing her hips like her,