Chorus:
Black coffee clearing up the fog
Buzzing crickets, larks and croakin' frogs.
Black and bitter, hot from the pot,
and a quiet hour to dream is all I want.

It's a black coffee evening
and it's too much to comprehend
but I'm gonna try and send it
clean around the bend.

Chorus:

Bridge:
Weaving my own little pathway
through the signs and cool facades,
and silent grim conspiracies,
to beat all odds.