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Black Coffee (live (1949/Carnegie Hall))
Ella Fitzgerald
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I'm feeling mighty lonesome
Haven't slept a wink
I walk the floor and watch the door
And in between I drink
Black coffee
Love's a hand me down brew
I'll never see a Sunday
In this weekday room
I'm talking to the shadows
From one o'clock to four
And Lord, how slow the moments go
When all I do is pour
Black coffee
Since the blues caught my eyes
I'm hanging out on Monday
My Sunday tears, too dry
Now a man is born to go on loving
A woman's born to weep and fret
To stay at home and tend to her oven
And drown her past regrets
In coffee and cigarettes
I'm mourning all the morning
Mourning all night
And in between it's nicotine
And not much hard to fight
Black coffee
Feeling low as the ground
It's driving me crazy, this waiting for my baby
To maybe come around
Around
This waiting for my baby
To maybe come around
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