@ARTIST: Hefner
@SONG:   A Hymn for the Coffee

   Bless the coffee that passes between her lips,
   cause the caffine gives the woman a nervous twitch.
   When she crossed those big white thighs, what I saw could hardly have
   been intended.
   And her skirted suit it implies to me,
   She should not chastise so calously,
   As the woman who shared my bed and wiped my brow for the past three
   years.
   And my true love dont drink her coffeee like her,
   Dont wear lipstick like her,
   My true love, she is cursed.
   And my true love dont swing her hips like her,
   Not got those sassy curls,
   My true love, she is cursed.
   Hope the morning coffee does the trick,
   Hope it clears my mind makes the day more worth it,
   Cause the devil in me and the deep blue sea are entwined as on since
   that girl winked at me.
   (One of my favourite Hefner songs, always fun to play. This was
   recorded in the loft at the Flop House, Hefners home and rehearsal
   spot for the first year as well as my bedroom.)