T'was the morn before working
and all through its head
The creature was stalling
still lying in bed
It clutched at the pillow
and moaned at the morn -
get up or lie silent?
still trying but torn
Then rose like a storm front
to menace the land
The creature creeped slowly
with shaking white hands
To the jest of its master
(Jumbo to go, black)
it turned on the water
in attempt to come back
But showers are nothing
for a monster so fright
With the face of a gargoyle
and eyes of the night
In unstraightened clothing
with vessel in grip
It haunts out to worship
The Black Nasty Drip
Then standing in line
among creatures and creeps
At Starbuck's communion
the monster still sleeps
Then raise the dark cup
to lips of fiend's hair
And lap the black blood
in death's trancing prayer.
Then off like a human,
an athlete, a King
Mr. Coffee can deal
`cause joe's just the thing