Beatnik Joe Little, Black, and
Beatnik Joe
Little, Black, and Round
Heaven, Dark Roast, Ground
You kiss my lips and
Touch my Heart in ways most profound
Whether bitter, thick like mud,
With crappy, floaty crud,
Or smooth and regal nectar,
That lingers as my master
Your end becomes my means
To not succumb to
Murderous temptation
Each morning
Little, Black, and Round
Heaven, Dark Roast, Ground
You kiss my lips and
Touch my Heart in ways most profound
Whether bitter, thick like mud,
With crappy, floaty crud,
Or smooth and regal nectar,
That lingers as my master
Your end becomes my means
To not succumb to
Murderous temptation
Each morning
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