I'm feeling mighty lonesome 
Haven't slept a wink 
I walk the floor from nine to four 
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 shadow 
One o'clock till four 
And Lord, how slow the moments go 
And all I do is pour 
Black coffee 
Since the blues caught my eye 
I'm hanging out on Monday 
My Sunday dreams to dry 

Now man was born to go a loving 
But was a woman born to weep and fret 
And stay at home and tend her oven 
And down her past regrets 
In coffee and cigarettes 

I'm mooning all the morning 
Moaning all the night 
And in between it's nicotine 
And not much heart to fight 
Black coffee 
Feeling low as the ground 
It's driving me crazy 
This thinking 'bout my baby 
Might [bad word] around  [bad word] around