You wake up to the taste of black death
And to a smell that is even worse
A daily ritual in a mug
A fresh, porcelain, filtered-bean curse
You wake up again on the freeway
As you suddenly come to a stop
A stream of obscenities and honks
Helps coffee get gulped to last drop
At your destination you remain
With all the meaningless tasks to do
Gulping caffeine for your potato brain
All day and all week -earn a buck or two
The job pays the rent as well as the bills
And buys coffee to wake up to every day
You survive and live on without real thrills
Brown goop building up in your veins to stay
You stay wide awake, and you live free
Taking comfort in friendly warm goo
But is it you drinking the coffee
Or the coffee that is drinking you?
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