Though my new solitude
Makes my day times abore
My evenings empty
My night times a chore
There is nothing I mourn
More then mornings of your
Sweet honey dew
Tastes so luscious
When you serve it for two
But turns to mush soon as the two some is through
Don't you hate having breakfast alone
Breakfast alone
The only raspy voice you hear is your own
Thoughts of the past put salty tears in your scone
Your honeys on your toast not your phone
That won't ring
Hate that thing
Hear me sing about
Bitter brown grounds and the sunny side downs
And the dawns that us to be
Rubbing sleep from your eyes
Half an hour before we'd rise
Now I throw my clothes when reveille blows in the morning for me
Morning for me
Is sitting staring in my black coffee cup
And softly swearin how I hated to see
That morning sun come up
The Friendzone Blues Video (MV)
Dom Thomas - The Friendzone Blues Lyrics
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Though my new solitude
Makes my day times abore
My evenings empty
My night times a chore
There is nothing I mourn
More then mornings of your
Sweet honey dew
Tastes so luscious
When you serve it for two
But turns to mush soon as the two some is through
Don't you hate having breakfast alone
Breakfast alone
The only raspy voice you hear is your own
Thoughts of the past put salty tears in your scone
Your honeys on your toast not your phone
That won't ring
Hate that thing
Hear me sing about
Bitter brown grounds and the sunny side downs
And the dawns that us to be
Rubbing sleep from your eyes
Half an hour before we'd rise
Now I throw my clothes when reveille blows in the morning for me
Morning for me
Is sitting staring in my black coffee cup
And softly swearin how I hated to see
That morning sun come up
Makes my day times abore
My evenings empty
My night times a chore
There is nothing I mourn
More then mornings of your
Sweet honey dew
Tastes so luscious
When you serve it for two
But turns to mush soon as the two some is through
Don't you hate having breakfast alone
Breakfast alone
The only raspy voice you hear is your own
Thoughts of the past put salty tears in your scone
Your honeys on your toast not your phone
That won't ring
Hate that thing
Hear me sing about
Bitter brown grounds and the sunny side downs
And the dawns that us to be
Rubbing sleep from your eyes
Half an hour before we'd rise
Now I throw my clothes when reveille blows in the morning for me
Morning for me
Is sitting staring in my black coffee cup
And softly swearin how I hated to see
That morning sun come up
Writer: Dom Thomas
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid