I drink my coffee slowly,

hoping you’re sitting across from me,

because coffee tastes kinder

when it’s shared.

We drink together,

cups close, fingers relaxed,

talking about nothing

and somehow everything.

But if you’re not here,

it’s just me and the steam,

me and this quiet table,

me thinking of you

between every sip.

The coffee is still warm,

but it feels a little lonely,

like it’s waiting too.

(Melody)

But if you’re not here,

it’s just me and the steam,

me and this quiet table,

me thinking of you

between every sip.

So come back soon,

because coffee is better

when I don’t have to imagine you...