by Rodney Crowell / Beth Nielsen Chapman From Jon Randall "Cold Coffee Morning" Unreleased CD Elektra / Asylum Records 1999 She close that door She
written by Paul Kennerly / Marty Stuart From Jon Randall "Cold Coffee Morning" Elektra / Asylum Records 1999 Irving Music / Little March Music / Songs
by Jon Randall / Rodney Crowell / Kevin Montgomery From Jon Randall "Cold Coffee Morning" Unreleased CD Elektra / Asylum Records 1999 This old road
written Mark Marchett / Stephanie Jones From Jon Randall "Cold Coffee Morning" Elektra / Asylum Records 1999 Sony / ATV Songs LLC Tree (BMI) Two thousand
if you're feeling sorry for me Take me out for a cup of coffee Embrace the cold and all the snow Cause that is all, you'll ever know He's left out in the cold
is so fake, And loving you is just a big mistake I made, And now I can see, you should have meant nothing to me, And cold tears go best with warm coffee
For drunks and bums counting beans Black cold coffee Black Irish soup Cold on a silver spoon She's dancing through hoops Solo Black cold coffee Black Irish soup Cold
: She?s like cold coffee in the morning I?m drunk off last night?s whisky and coke She?ll make me shiver without warning And make me laugh, as if I?m
I borrow a thin brother You know, a dime? Say it, say it, say it sis I'd sure like to have this little dime for me So I can get this cup of coffee Cop
Morning's hard coffee's cold Pretending that the days mean more than getting old Stale headlines, others drenched in pride Marching to their drum with
deal go down Don't you push me baby, cause I'm moaning low Well I know a little something you won't ever know Don't you touch hard liquor, just a cup of cold coffee
don't even write songs But Hollywood make you spit like a python I meant Cobra, I'm so not sober I'm high like a Hollywood coffee or soda You can call
you shortly will discover'' Then I fall to my knees Shake a rattle at the skies And I'm afraid that I'll be taken abandoned and forsaken In her cold coffee
Oh oh ohhh Life was simple, Roger was working 'round the clock to make a living, No computers, none of that, he used his two hands, Ignored the cold
by night for you and the sky I write For in these cold star night's moon, you my light If heaven had a height, you would be that tall Ghetto to coffee
ashtray Lyin' cold the way you left 'em But at least your lips caressed them while you packed And a lip print on a half-filled cup of coffee That I
boy brings you coffee There are letters from every shore There are flowers of the season Heels are capsized by the door You're well protected Cold as
clean (yeah) feet clean (yeah) teeth clean u know wut I mean (haha) got my phoenix extended clip and I ain't talk'n wake up smoke my purple drink my coffee