Every morning I woke up, you handed me a coffee cupAnd poured it with a smile, it filled the roomNow that room is cold and dark, and my days never seem to startThat's why I'm hoping you'll come back soonIf I close my eyes, or drink hard enoughYou may come back riding on the moonUntil that day it seems my fate is to watch the coffee percolateAnd drink it in this dark and dusty roomIn this dark and dusty room
