Pousse Cafe
Earle Hagen, Herbert W. Spencer
I sit and sip Pousse Café
The others think it's just a drink
How can they know of the love song it starts?
It's like my heart, it's in three parts
Why do I drink Pousse Café?
Oh I don't know, it warms me so
I can't tell that it's a toast to a dream
It's on my lips, how near you a seem
Once your lips caress me tenderly
Offered low love that would not go astray
Empty arms and just a memory
And a lonely drink of Pousse Café
Pour me one more Pousse Café
An aperitif can't bring relief
I'm the moth who got too close to the flame
I played for keeps, you played a game
And so I linger here and sip Pousse Café