I'm a barista, with a broken wrist
I made too many lattes today
A coffee-makah, too much intake
I drank too much coffee, oh yayayyy
But, whoa-oh, how I love that bean
Brown, ground, roasted or green
No matter how snotty you are, I'll be there tomorrow
I'm a grown man, with a coffee tan
I hardly see the light of day
Up at the crack of dawn, with barely a yawn
And I'm out there, slaving away
But, woah-oh, how I love that bean
Brown, ground, roasted or green
No matter how snotty you are, I'll be there tomorrow
Because
I love, I love, I love, I love, I love coffee
I love, I love, I love, I love, I love coffee
But I hate the way you make it out to be
Your motherfucking specialty
Like you were there in 1933
Planting the mountainside, in your French colony (une, deux, trois, quatre!)
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