Archived posting to the Leica Users Group, 2004/04/21
[Author Prev] [Author Next] [Thread Prev] [Thread Next] [Author Index] [Topic Index] [Home] [Search]Grab a Cup and Sing Along with Frank Loesser (written when the Leica M3 1,000,000+ series was in production): "Coffee Break" If I can't take my coffee break, My coffee break, my coffee break . . . If I can't take my coffee break, Something within me dies. Lies down and something within me dies. If I can't make three daily trips Where shining shrine Benignly drips And taste cardboard between my lips, Something within me dies. Lies down and something within me dies. No coffee! No coffee! No coffee! No coffee! No coffee! No coffee! No coffee! No coffee! That office light doesn't have to be fluorescent; I'll get no pains in the head. That office chair doesn't have to be foam rubber; So if I spread, so I spread; But only one chemical substance Gets out the lead-- Like she said: If I can't take my coffee break, My coffee break, my coffee break . . . If I can't take my coffee break, Gone is the sense of enterprise All gone, and something within me dies. No coffee! No coffee! No coffee! No coffee! No coffee! No coffee! No coffee! No coffee! No coffee! No coffee! If I can't take my coffee break, Somehow the soul no longer tries; Somewhere I don't metabolize; Something within me . . . Coffee or otherwise, Coffee or otherwise, Coffee or otherwise, Something inside of me dies! Or, for you Leica IIIc era fans, two choices: "Java Jive" I love coffee, I love tea I love the Java Jive and it loves me Coffee and tea and the java and me A cup, a cup, a cup, a cup, a cup (Boy!) I love java, sweet and hot Whoops Mr. Moto, I'm a coffee pot Shoot the pot and I'll pour me a shot A cup, a cup, a cup, a cup, a cup Oh slip me a slug from the wonderful mug And I'll cut a rug just snug in a jug A sliced up onion and a raw one Draw one - Waiter, waiter, percolator I love coffee, I love tea I love the Java Jive and it loves me Coffee and tea and the java and me A cup, a cup, a cup, a cup, a cup Boston bean (soy beans) Green bean (cabbage and greens) I'm not keen about a bean Unless it is a chili chili bean (boy!) I love java sweet and hot Whoops Mr. Moto I'm a coffee pot (yeah) Shoot me the pot and I'll pour me a shot A cup, a cup, a cup (yeah) Slip me a slug of the wonderful mug 'An I'll cut a rug just as snug in a jug Drop a nickel in the pot Joe Takin' it slow Waiter, waiter, percolator I love coffee, I love tea I love the Java Jive and it loves me Coffee and tea and the java and me A cup, a cup, a cup, a cup, boy! Then there's choice #2: "The Coffee Song" Way down among Brazilians Coffee beans grow by the billions So they've got to find those extra cups to fill They've got an awful lot of coffee in Brazil You can't get cherry soda'Cause they've got to fill that quota And the way things are I'll bet they never will They've got a zillion tons of coffee in Brazil No tea or tomato juice You'll see no potato juice The planters down in Santos all say no no no The politician's daughter Was accused of drinking water And was fined a great big fifty dollar bill They've got an awful lot of coffee in Brazil You date a girl and find out laterShe smells just like a percolator Her perfume was made right on the grill Why they could percolate the ocean in Brazil And when their ham and eggs need savor Coffee ketchup gives 'em flavor Coffee pickles way outsell the dill Why they put coffee in the coffee in Brazil So your lead to the local color Serving coffee with a cruller Dunking doesn't take a lot of skill They've got an awful lot of coffee in Brazil And for the IIIf RD/ST era crowd, there's always: "Black Coffee" I'm feeling mighty lonesome Haven't slept a wink I walk the floor and watch the door And in between I drink Black coffee Love's a hand me down brew I'll never know a sunday In this weekday room I'm talking to the shadows 1 o'clock to 4 And lord, how slow the moments go When all I do is pour Black coffee Since the blues caught my eye I'm hanging out on monday My sunday dream's too dry Now a man is born to go a lovin' A woman's born to weep and fret To stay at home and tend her oven And drown her past regrets In coffee and cigarettes I'm moody all the morning Mourning all the night And in between it's nicotine And not much hard to fight Black coffee Feelin' low as the ground It's driving me crazy just waiting for my baby To maybe come around My nerves have gone to pieces My hair is turning gray All I do is drink black coffee Since my man's gone away I'm humming along, loading my M2 with K64 for a day of shooting tomorrow--weather permitting, naturally. Jim Shulman Bryn Mawr, PA