The Hymn for the Coffee (Rough Trade Shop, London 1998)

Bless the coffee that passes between her lips
'Cause the caffeine gives the woman a nervous twitch
When she crossed those big wide thighs
What I saw could hardly have been intended
And her skirted suit, it implies to me
She should not chastise so callously
As the woman who shared my bed
And wiped my brow for the past three years

And my true love won't drink coffee like her
Won't wear lipstick like her
My true love, she is cursed
And my true love won't wear lipstick like her
Not got those sassy curves
My true love, she is cursed

Oh, but morning coffee does the trick
Oh, pink lips by night makes the day more worth it
'Cause the devil in me and the deep blue sea
They're entwined as one since that girl went deadbeat

And my true love won't drink coffee like her
Won't wear lipstick like her
My true love, she is cursed
And my true love won't swing her hips like her
Not got those sassy curves
My true love, she is cursed
And my true love won't swing her hips like her
Not got those sassy curves
My true love, she is cursed
And my true love won't drink coffee like her
Won't wear lipstick like her
My true love, she is cursed