I lost my girl to a barista
He’s taken all I’d got
Wrote her name on her cup, then he kissed her
While she necked an espresso shot

I thought that I could trust her
But this is no minor affliction
Her love for the bean’s robusta
It’s a terminal addiction

I’m a has bean on the cafe scene
You could say at this juncture
Since I lost my Costa Coffee Queen
My Nespresso capsule’s punctured

By the grinder’s where you’ll find her
Shaking, serious, pale
Where there are single origin roasts to stir
And aromas to inhale

She shivers at the respiratory hiss
Of steam injected cappuccinos
They’re her idea of perfect bliss
And he’s taught her all that he knows

Kilimanjaro coffees from Kenya
Hand picked, fruity, ground
Freshly milled misto from Venezuela
A tropical Paradise, Found

She spends her mornings surfing
On cafe latte waves
Arabica and Java
Supply the hit she craves

In the Grand Bazaar in Istanbul
I once lost her for a while
While she sipped an Ethiopian brew
From the hills of the Upper Nile

Now she’s a squeeze for that sleazy barista
I wish he’d been on a shift that missed her
We’re finished since the bastard kissed her
And we had the perfect blend

No longer am I her Starbucks A-lister
I’m her addict, I can’t resist her
She’s gone, my Blue Mountain soul sister
It’s the bitter, empty end.