(instrumental opening)

Before my eyes
seeing cold and gray caffeine stuff born
a poor man's money would soon be shorn:
"Macchiato"?

(Macchiato?)

And that mama cries.

'Cause if there's one thing that she don't need
it's her kid bouncing off the walls, indeed.
"Macchiato?"

(Macchiato?)

Menu, I don't understand.
Please, give me a helping hand.
And why, for this coffee, five bucks I gotta pay?
"Frappucino," that's for me?
Is it "Tall" or "Venti"?
Me, I simply shake my head.
Should I now walk away?

No, so back, turn.
And this hungry feller sees an ice cream treat.
I think it's ice cream, it does look sweet.
It's "Gelato"?

(It's Gelato?)

Dang it and goldurn.

No, this ain't why I roamed the streets tonight.
I need me some coffee, not "latte light."
Delicato.

(Delicato!)

So, tonight, in desperation
this old man goes to pay.
I have to go back to my car.
The cash I brought didn't go too far.

But King Elvis cries.

But it's tears of joy, sitting in my seat.
I'm here and I'm downing every treat.
All you got, whoa!

(All they got, whoa!)

It beats Big Mac and fries.

(All they got, whoa!)

And on the next cold gray late Memphis night
I hope I'm pronouncing that drink right...

"Mock-ee-ah-toh"?
(Macchiato?)

Got it right? Thanks, guys!
(Macchiato!)

(Macchiato!)

(Oh, whoa!)