Work Text:
The coffee trees grow on the hill.
The sacred beans go in the mill.
What is your will, o drinkers wise-o?
To brew the drink that is our prize-o.
The perfect drink that is our prize.
But is it dark, or is it light?
Too mild and sweet, or with a bite?
And do you know where it is grown-o?
And how the different roasts are known-o?
And how the different roasts are known?
Start with water, pure and clear
To make the dark elixir dear.
Take the beans and grind them fine-o
We'll have our coffee when we dine-o
We'll have our coffee when we dine.
And shall you brew by drip or press?
And shall you serve it whiskey-blessed?
And if you fill the pitcher up-o
How will you pour it in the cup-o?
How will you pour it in the cup?
We stir with spoon, this holy drug
We hold aloft the steaming mug
This blackest drink from berries green-o,
We drink the coffee for caffeine-o
We drink the coffee for caffeine.
The coffee trees grow on the hill.
The sacred beans go in the mill.
What is your will, o drinkers wise-o?
To brew the drink that is our prize-o.
The perfect drink that is our prize.