Mr. Vass likes his coffee black
but his boys white, oh white
with golden hair spun from straw
by a pale princess in a sunny land

Eighteen-looks-not-a-day-over-sixteen
with skin light as a lake of cream
and smooth and sweet as sugar water
But Mr. Vass likes his coffee black

He sits outside and sips it hot
his twinkling eyes twin gas lamps
over the rim of his well-worn cup
Pale fluttering creatures fall toward him

Look-a-here, you oughtta set yourself down
Lemme git you a coffee Bet you like it sweet
Yep, you're a real sweet boy I can tell
I'll be right back You just set right there

Mr. Vass gonna take good care of you