Lletres: Graham Coxon. The Kiss Of Morning. Latte.
Stretched into a form that would hurt your eyes to see
She made coffee latte and smiled at me
But then again she smiled at everybody
When I leave that place I'm always speeding
So much coffee in my brain a 'bleeding
A quickened step and a stomach reeling
From thoughts of her lips I wish mine were feeling
Coxon, Graham
The Kiss Of Morning
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