A quiet morning, sun just barely up.
Sitting at my desk, normal work day still.
Till I wanted coffee– a nice, warm cup.
I'd better watch out, to not let it spill.
What does it matter, is coffee that bad?
It could ruin my work and mess up my desk.
It could burn my tongue, turn my stomach sad.
Then I'd have to clean up, a stupid task.
Still I really fancy some coffee, please.
With some milk, creamy, sugary and warm.
Just one cup, wake me up, bring me at ease.
Inviting me to stay, with a sweet charm.
But if I have one cup, I crave for more.
And one cup will be the least I call for.